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LIBEAEY 

OF  THE 

Theological   Seminary, 

PRINCETON,  N.  J. 

BV  4832  .06  1845 

Old  Humphrey,  1787-1854. 

Thoughts  for  the  thoughtful 


***m*w  4T  viju+wfrtA 


THOUGHTS 


THE  THOUGHTFUL 


! 


BY 


OLD  HUMPHREY, 


S.UTHOR  OF  "OLD   HUMPHREY'S   ADDRESSES,"   "  OLD  HUMPHREY'S 
OBSERVATIONS,"   &C. 

The  Gothic  arch,  -where  ivy  in  its  pride, 

Clusters  around  the  porch  I  dearly  love; 
There  let  me  muse  alon"  at  eventide. 

And  thence  my  peaceful  thoughts  be  borne  above. 


FIFTH  EDITION. 


NEW    YORK: 

SOBERT  CARTER,  58   CANAL  STREET 

AND  PITTSBURG,  58  MARKET  STREET. 

1845. 


PREFACE. 


As  an  old  man  1  may  be  allowed  a  little 
quaintness  in  giving  a  title  to  a  book,  and  a 
considerate  reader  will  not  quarrel  with  me  for 
choosing  that  of  "  Thoughts  for  the  Thought- 
ful," inasmuch  as  it  is  the  best  that  has  oc- 
curred to  my  mind. 

Some  of  the  following  pieces  have  already 
appeared  in  the  "  Tract  Magazine ;"  and,  in- 
deed, the  whole  volume  itself  is  of  a  very  un- 
pretending character,  claiming  no  attention 
either  for  the  novelty  of  its  design,  the  bril- 
liancy of  its  wit,  the  extent  of  its  information, 
or  the  depth  and  solidity  of  its  wisdom.  But 
as  we  expect  not  the  common  architect  to 
erect  a  pyramid,  so  my  humble  design  may 
escape  the  censure  of  all  who  prefer  usefulness 
to  grandeur. 

In  thus  collecting  together  a  few  of  my  fu- 
gitive thoughts,  it  has  been  my  wish  to  excite 
the  reflections,  and  call  forth  the  thankfulness 
and  kindheartedness  of  the  thoughtful  on  a 


IV  PREFACE. 

variety  of  subjects,  well  worthy  of  more  atten- 
tion than  I  have  bestowed  upon  them.  He 
who  duly  considers  what  a  minute  speck  de- 
ranges the  clearest  sight,  and  what  a  mere 
spark  kindles  a  conflagration,  will  be  careful 
neither  to  propagate  error,  nor  to  excite  ill 
will.  I  hope  my  little  book  is  consistent  with 
truth,  and  I  trust  it  is  of  a  friendly  spirit.  If 
we  wish  for  peace  on  earth  before  we  enjoy  it 
in  heaven,  the  least  we  can  do  in  the  midst  of 
our  unnumbered  infirmities  is  to  foster  grate- 
ful and  kindly  emotions  ;  for  it  is  only  when 
the  heart  is  full  of  thankfulness  to  God,  and 
unfeigned  love  and  charity  to  mankind,  that 
we  can  reasonably  hope  "  the  wilderness  and 
the  solitary  place"  to  be  "glad,"  and  the 
"desert"  to  "rejoice,  and  blossom  as  the 
rose." 

OLD  HUMPHREY. 


CONTENTS. 


Page 

A  sweet  Spirit .9 

The  Sun  and  the  Cloud 10 

The  Gothic  Pile 11 

The  broken  Thread 15 

Want  of  Forbearance 16 

So  I  Twisted  it 17 

How  far  is  it  to  Canaan  1 18 

The  Railroad  Station 22 

Nothing  and  Something .23 

Halleluiah 26 

The  Book  of  Time 27 

The  pleasant  Field 30 

The  bald-headed  Sexton 31 

Turn  your  Telescope 38 

Tbis  World,  or  the  next? 39 

The  Tongue 40 

The  Corncrake 43 

Sing  for  Joy 45 

The  Holly  Bush 47 

The  Christian's  Lever 50 

The  Diver 51 

The  Savings'  Bank _  .  56 


VI  CONTENTS. 

Pag* 

The  Blacksmith 58 

The  Bog  on  the  Scottish  Border       ....  59 

Trees  and  Plants 61 

Why  is  it  1 63 

A  precious  Promise 65 

The  crazy  Man  and  his  Watch        ....  66 

The  Banian  Tree 67 

On  what  are  you  depending  1 70 

The  Barrack  Yard 72 

The  Portraits 73 

The  Geranium  Tree 76 

Death's  Visits  to  the  Village 78 

The  Mariner's  Compass 83 

The  Smut  in  the  Corn 84 

The  Serpent's  Tail  and  its  Head 90 

The  Ivy 92 

The  Tracks  in  the  Clay       ......  93 

Singing 96 

Bamborough  Castle 99 

Uprightness  is  true  Prosperity 101 

The  Man  in  the  Mask 102 

The  Picture  Frame 104 

The  Tooth-ache 106 

The  Whetstone        .......  108 

Sunshine 109 

Sympathy  for  Sailors Ill 

The  broken  Finger-post 113 

The  Times .114 

Edmund  Hawker 116 

On  an  unfaithful  Friend 119 

Bernard  Gilpin 121 

Common  Occurrences 122 

The  Gods  of  the  Heathen 124 

The  deep  Pit 126 

Tyranny  and  Oppression 129 

Jewish  Custom •  130 


CONTENTS.  Til 

Page 

Food 133 

Aged  Christians 135 

The  too  hasty  Reproof 138 

What  good  can  I  do  1 140 

The  natural  Creation 142 

The  Pedant 144 

The  Hill  Good  Hope 146 

Kindness 147 

Submission 150 

Rest 151 

Brinkburn  Priory 154 

Are  You  Ready  1 155 

The  Robin  and  the  Sparrow 157 

The  swallowed  Bible 158 

An  Enemy 160 

The  happy  Children 163 

The  Wanderer  without  a  Guide 164 

The  Oak 166 

The  old  Pensioner 168 

Philip  of  Macedon 170 

An  unexpected  Sermon 172 

The  Fit  of  Abstraction 173 

The  Coat  of  many  Colours 175 

Sudden  Changes 177 

The  churlish  Farmer 178 

Desolation 180 

The  Doors  being  shut 182 

Trying  Times 183 

The  two  Busts 184 

Indigestion 186 

The  Basket  of  Summer  Fruit 187 

The  Lasket  Lane 189 

God's  Presence 192 

On  Dress 193 

The  bitter  Fruits  of  War 194 

The  setting  Sun 197 


Vlll  CONTENTS. 

Page 

A  Sabbath  passed  in  a  Ditch 198 

Wages 200 

Suitable  Mercies 203 

The  Seasons 204 

We  shall  meet  in  Heaven 206 

For  me 208 

How  old  are  you  1 210 

Town  and  Country 213 

Who's  the  next  1 .  214 

The  Allegory 219 

The  Sermon 220 

Faith  and  Patience 221 

The  Stork  with  the  broken  Bill 223 

The  old  Hovel 224 

Have  you  wound  up  the  Clock  1          ....  227 

Put  some  Coals  on  the  Fire 234 


THOUGHTS 


THE     THOUGHTFUL, 


A  SWEET  SPIRIT. 


There  is  a  sweet  spirit, — not  to  be  found  every 
hour  in  the  day,  nor,  indeed,  every  day  of  the  year, 
but  it  is  sometimes  to  be  met  with, — a  spirit  of  for- 
bearance, kindness,  and  charity,  that  delights  to 
speak  well  of  the  absent,  and  to  represent  favoura- 
bly what  to  others  may  appear  doubtful.  "  She  has 
a  high  way  with  her,"  said  an  Irish  maiden,  when 
speaking  of  her  absent  mistress,  who  was  consid- 
ered proud :  "  people  do  not  understand  her.  She 
has  a  high  way  with  her  ;  but  she  is  like  the  lilies, 
that  are  so  gentle  and  mild  when  you  come  to  know 
them." 

Oh  that  we  all  had  more  of  the  spirit  of  this 


10  A   SWEET    SPIRIT. 

female !  that  all  our  seeming  highmindedness  and 
pride  could  be  explained  in  as  satisfactory  a  manner, 
and  that  we  were  enabled  to  say  of  ourselves  with 
perfect  sincerity  and  truth,  whatever  may  be  our 
outward  bearing,  "  Lord,  my  heart  is  not  haughty, 
nor  mine  eyes  lofty :  neither  do  I  exercise  myself 
in  great  matters,  or  in  things  too  high  for  me," 
Psalm  cxxxi.  1. 


THE   SUN  AND  THE   CLOUD. 

It  is  usually  thought,  and  no  doubt  correctly, 
that  in  age  our  emotions  are  much  deadened,  but 
with  regard  to  the  outward  things  of  creation  mine 
appear  to  be  as  lively  as  ever.  As  I  stood  gazing 
on  the  western  sky,  the  orb  of  day  was  setting  glo- 
riously. From  a  dark  cloud  that  ensconced  the 
sun,  regular  beams  of  light,  widening  in  their 
course,  shot  upwards  and  sideways.  So  clear  and 
bright  was  the  firmament,  that  the  tops  of  the  far- 
removed  buildings  were  clearly  defined,  and  the 
flight  of  pigeons  that  with  rapid  wing  were  wheeling 
round  in  the  air  at  the  distance  of  a  mile  were  dis- 
tinctly visible.  While,  entranced  with  admiration, 
I  continued  to  gaze  at  the  kindling  heavens,  the  sun 


THE    SUN   AND   THE    CLOUD.  11 

came  forth  from  his  hiding  place  in  purple  and  gold, 
flinging  upon  earth  and  heaven  such  an  intensity 
of  brightness,  and  pouring  forth  such  a  flood  of 
unendurable  glory,  that  my  hands  clasped  them- 
selves involuntarily,  and  as  I  had  no  words  that 
could  relieve  my  heart  and  soul,  I  stood  in  silent 
ecstacy,  my  eyes  overflowing  with  tears. 

I  know  that  clouds  are  sent  forth  from  the  Eter- 
nal on  errands  of  extended  usefulness  ;  that  the  sun 
is  the  visible  light  and  glory  of  the  world,  calling 
into  existence  myriads  of  God's  creatures,  and  exe- 
cuting through  the  wide  spread  universe  the  Al- 
mighty will  of  his  Almighty  Maker ;  but  I  felt  at 
that  moment  that  the  bright  sun  and  the  dark  cloud 
had,  also,  another  mission  to  execute ;  to  entrance 
my  eye  with  beauty  and  brightness,  to  impress  my 
heart  with  a  sense  of  God's  glory  and  goodness, 
and  to  overwhelm  my  spirit  with  unspeakable  won- 
der, gratitude  and  praise. 


THE  GOTHIC  PILE. 

I  love  to  walk  in  these  gloomy  cloisters,  and  to 
muse  upon  this  Gothic  pile,  that  for  so  many  centu- 
ries has  excited  wonder.     It  is  mouldering  now, 


12  THE   GOTHIC    PILE. 

and  discourses  eloquently  on  the  fading  nature  of 
this  world's  most  lasting  glories. 

Lord,  what  is  man  !  how  frail  and  weak, 

How  vain  his  worldly  trust ; 
The  proudest  effort  of  his  hands 

Shall  crumble  in  the  dust. 

Look  at  the  sculptured  portico,  purely  Gothic, 
nothing  can  be  finer !  It  is  as  rich  as  age  and 
elaborate  carving  can  make  it,  from  its  pointed  top 
to  its  substantial  base.  Regard  the  massy  buttres- 
ses, and  that  goodly  tower  where  unnumbered 
niches  are  filled  with  the  effigies  of  saints,  mitred 
bishops,  grotesque  figures,  and  curiously  wrought 
ornaments — But  let  us  enter  the  building. 

See  what  windows  there  are  of  painted  glass ! 
what  a  spacious  nave  and  what  extended  transepts  ! 
Mark  how  the  clustered  pillars  shoot  up  to  the 
fretted  roof  a  hundred  feet  above  us,  and  then  what 
piles  of  monumental  marble !  The  armed  knights 
lying  on  their  backs  are  sadly  mutilated !  Their 
helms  and  hauberks  have  been  battered;  their 
shields  and  gauntlets,  and  two-handed  swords,  have 
been  broken,  and  the  iron  mace  that  once  lay  at  the 
foot  of  yonder  tomb  has  been  taken  away.  These 
mutilated  fragments  bid  us  look  upwards  for  immor- 
tality ;  for  on  earth  we  cannot  find  it. 

Observe  the  galleries  above,  on  double  columns 
narrow  and  high,  now  seen,  and  now  losing  them- 
selves in  the  thick  walls  of  the  building.     In  olden 


THE    GOTHIC    PILE.  13 

times,  dark-dressed  nuns  might  be  seen  there,  glid- 
ing to  and  fro  in  the  dim  light  like  flitting  shadows, 
hasting  to  matins  or  vespers. 

Here  and  there  are  flights  of  steps  of  black  mar- 
ble, leading  to  different  chapels  ;  for  the  church  was 
a  chantry  endowed  with  revenue  for  priests  to  sing 
masses  for  departed  souls,  one  of  the  many  mum- 
meries of  Popery!  The  altar-piece  is  imposing, 
and  the  stalls  of  dark-brown  wainscot  also,  with 
beautifully  carved  Gothic  canopies,  and  seats  with 
strange  devices.     But  let  us  descend  below. 

This  old  crypt  so  rich  in  cobwebs  and  in  carved 
work  of  the  sculptor's  chisel,  looks  a  different  place 
to  what  it  did  when  its  clustered  pilasters  and 
groined  arches  were  lighted  up  with  lamps  hanging 
from  the  roof.  There  are  no  hooded  friars  now, 
kneeling  in  devotion,  and  "bidding  their  beads" 
before  the  costly  crucifix.  Time  has  been  when 
this  low-browed  vault  has  dazzled  the  beholder's 
eye  with  all  the  glittering  glory  that  could  be  im- 
parted by  richly-wrought  vessels  of  the  precious 
metals,  by  decorated  altars,  glowing  paintings,  col- 
oured glass,  and  sparkling  jewels.  Where  now 
we  stand,  bald-headed  monks  have  stood  before  us, 
in  grey  gown  and  rosary,  and  mitred  abbots  habited 
in  gorgeous  apparel,  in  vestments  of  purple  and 
crimson,  stiff  and  glittering  with  silver  and  with 
gold.     The  place  is  at  the  present  time 


"  Furred  round  with  misty  damps  and  ropy  slime," 
2 


14  THE    GOTHIC    PILE. 

and  teems  with  unsavoury  odours ;  but  silver  cen- 
sers have  ere  now  filled  it  with  the  perfume  of 
frankincense  and  myrrh.  It  is  now  silent ;  but  the 
sweet  voices  of  the  young-,  and  the  deep  mellow 
tones  of  age  mingled  together,  have  rung  in  awful 
and  mysterious  melody  through  its  echoing  reces- 
ses, with  the  praise  of  the  virgin,  instead  of  the 
praise  of  the  High  and  Holy  One.  With  what  a 
cloud  of  errors  and  delusions  has  Popery  enshroud- 
ed the  Christian  profession !  its  indulgencies,  con- 
fessions, penances,  and  purgatory,  sealing  the  word 
of  God,  bowing  down  to  crucifixes,  and  seeking  the 
intercession  of  saints  !  How  earnestly  should  we 
pray  for  the  removal  of  these  soul-deceiving  de- 
lusions ! 

I  love  to  walk  in  the  gloomy  cloister,  and  to 
muse  on  the  Gothic  pile  ;  for  it  tells  me  what  a  frail 
worm  I  am.  The  bald-headed  monks,  and  mitred 
abbots,  where  are  they  ?  and  where  shall  I  shortly 
be?  The  glowing  paintings,  the  sparkling  jewels, 
the  gorgeous  apparel,  the  silver  censer,  the  per- 
fumed incense,  and  the  mingled  voices  of  youth  and 
age  are  gone  ;  but  their  very  absence  teaches  me  to 
cling  to  things  that  are  eternal,  and  to  value  more 
highly  the  simple  and  superlative  excellence  of  the 
gospel  of  Jesus  Christ.  It  tells  me  to  seek  trea- 
sures in  heaven,  it  moves  my  heart  to  magnify  the 
Lord,  and  my  spirit  to  rejoice  in  God  my  Saviour, 
and  in  him  alone. 


THE  BROKEN  THREAD. 

It  is  a  bad  sign  when  age  is  too  proud  to  learn  a 
useful  lesson  from  childhood !  If  in  my  walks  and 
friendly  cottage  calls,  I  can  do  any  good  to  others, 
I  am  thankful :  but  the  amount  of  my  services  is 
very  smail.  Often,  however,  does  it  occur,  that 
when  I  do  no  good  to  others,  I  get  good  to  myself. 

This  morning,  a  little  child,  at  a  house  where  I 
called,  came  weeping  to  her  mother  in  great  grief. 
She  had  been  sitting  very  quietly  for  some  time,  on 
a  little  stool,  sewing  at  a  piece  of  clean  rag  for 
practice.  When  I  inquired  the  cause  of  her  trou- 
ble, it  was  a  broken  thread:  the  poor  little  girl 
seemed  overwhelmed  with  the  conviction  that  all 
her  work  was  at  an  end. 

"  Did  you  think,  love,  I  could  not  fasten  it  on 
again  ?"  asked  the  mother,  wiping  away  the  stream- 
ing tears.  "  Yes,"  sobbed  the  child.  "  Oh !  but  I 
can  though,  in  a  minute,"  said  the  mother.  "  See, 
love !  see !" 

Dear  little  child,  thought  I  to  myself,  thy  grief 
and  thy  simplicity  are  just  like  mine.  How  often 
and  how  long  have  I  sat  weeping  and  sobbing  with, 
as  it  were,  a  broken  thread  in  my  hand,  not  consid- 
ering how  easy  it  would  be  to  my  heavenly  Father 
to  fasten  all  the  broken  threads,  and  to  heal  all  the 
broken  hearts  of  his  children. 


WANT  OF  FORBEARANCE. 

For  shame  !  for  shame  !  Hasty,  impatient,  and 
petulant  Christian !  Was  David  the  song  of  the 
drunkards  ?  Was  Elisha  the  derision  of  children  ? 
Was  Paul  called  a  madman  ?  And  must  you  hold 
up  your  head,  forsooth,  and  feel  indignation  on  ac 
count  of  a  trifling  injury  ?  Do  you  profess  to  be  a 
follower  of  your  meek  and  lowly  Lord  and  Master, 
and  fly  off  in  a  tangent  because  a  slight  indignity 
has  been  put  upon  you  ?  Go  and  ponder  the  words, 
"  With  all  lowliness  and  meekness,  with  longsuffer- 
ing,  forbearing  one  another  in  love,"  Eph.  iv.  2. 

Was  righteous  Abel  slain?  Was  Daniel  cast 
into  the  lion's  den?  Were  those  of  whom  the  world 
was  not  worthy,  sawn  asunder?  Was  Stephen 
stoned  to  death,  and  the  Lord  of  life  and  glory 
taunted,  buffeted,  spat  upon,  scourged,  and  crucified? 
and  cannot  you  bear  with  an  offending  brother  with- 
out giving  way  to  anger,  hatred,  malice,  and  un- 
charitableness  ?  For  shame  !  for  shame  !  Open 
your  Bible,  and  let  the  following  text  be  the  subject 
of  your  meditations.  "  If  ye  forgive  men  their 
trespasses,  your  heavenly  Father  will  also  forgive 
you:  but  if  ye  forgive  not  men  their  trespasses, 
neither  will  your  Father  forgive  your  trespasses," 
Matt  vi.  14,  15. 


WANT   OF   FORBEARANCE.  17 

Should  it  happen,  reader,  that  you  have  a  hasty- 
spirit  within  your  bosom,  think  not  that  my  remarks 
are  directed  against  your  infirmity.  No,  no,  not  a 
word  of  it.  The  truth  is,  that  my  temper  has  been 
too  easily  ruffled,  and  every  syllable  I  have  uttered 
has  been  directed  against  the  hot  head  and  angry 
heart  of  Old  Humphrey. 


SO  I  TWISTED  IT. 

You  will  agree  with  an  old  man  in  the  observa- 
tion, That  it  is  a  pleasant  thing  to  be  in  that  delight- 
ful mood,  wherein  you  seem  to  have  the  power  of 
turning  every  thing  to  the  best  account.  In  such 
seasons,  the  earth  is  felt  to  be  the  Lord's,  and  "  the 
fulness  thereof;  the  world,  and  they  that  dwell 
therein,"  Psa.  xxiv.  1. 

A  Christian  friend  who  is  often  in  this  mood,  has 
just  given  me  an  account  of  an  evening  party  in  the 
following  words :  "  We  stayed  supper  on  the  little 
island,  having  made  a  fire  of  sticks.  I  could  not 
help  thinking  of  St.  Paul  on  the  island  of  Melita, 
when  the  barbarous  people  showed  him  no  small 
kindness,  receiving  him,  and  those  with  him,  '  be- 
cause of  the  present  rain,  and  because  of  the  cold.' 
2* 


18  SO    «   TWISTED    IT. 

True  it  is,  that  there  came  no  viper  out  of  the  heat  ; 
but  that  did  not  signify.  After  a  while,  the  party- 
began  singing,  all  standing  round  the  fire.  They 
were  singing,  alas !  not  the  praises  of  God,  but  I 
laughed  in  my  sleeve,  for  so  I  hoisted  it." 

Oh  that  Old  Humphrey  could  thus  twist  every 
word  that  comes  out  of  the  mouths  of  his  fellow- 
sinners,  as  well  as  every  thought  that  emanates 
from  his  own  heart,  to  God's  glory.  This  would 
indeed  be  acting  up  to  the  spirit  of  the  text, 
"  Whether  therefore  ye  eat,  or  drink,  or  whatsoever 
ye  do,  do  all  to  the  glory  of  God,"  1  Cor.  x.  31. 


HOW  FAR  IS  IT  TO  CANAAN? 

"  How  far  is  it  to  Canaan  ?"  said  a  friend. 
"  Why,"  replied  I,  "  the  children  of  Israel  found  it 
a  long  way ;  for  they  travelled  forty  years  in  the 
wilderness.  The  most  important  thing  is  to  know 
that  we  are  in  the  way,  for  then  the  distance  will 
get  less  and  less  every  hour." 

"How  far  is  it  to  Canaan?"  asks  the  doubting 
Christian  ;  "  for  I  am  sadly  afraid  I  shall  never  get 
there.     My  sins  are  a  heavy  burden  to  me,  and  I 


HOW    FAR    IS    IT   TO    CANAAN?  19 

long  to  be  rid  of  them,  if,  indeed,  there  is  hope  for 
such  an  one  as  I." 

Go  on,  poor  doubting  Christian,  take  fresh  cour- 
age, and  quicken  thy  step.  Canaan  is  not  so  far 
off  but  thou  shalt  reach  it  at  last;  and  if  thou 
couldst  know  how  willing  the  Saviour  of  sinners  is 
to  receive  thee,  it  would  shed  a  sunbeam  on  thy  de- 
jected countenance.  I  have  a  word  of  comfort  for 
thee,  a  cordial  for  thy  heart : 

"  I,  even  I,  am  he  that  blotteth  out  thy  transgres- 
sions for  mine  own  sake,  and  will  not  remember 
thy  sins,"   Isa.  xliii.  25. 

"  How  far  is  it  to  Canaan?"  asks  the  triumphant 
Christian;  "for  I  long  to  be  at  home.  I  know 
that  my  Redeemer  liveth,  and  because  he  lives,  I 
shall  live  also.  My  soul  has  made  me  like  '  the 
chariots  of  Amminadab,'  and  I  am  impatient  to  be- 
hold him  face  to  face  !" 

Go  forward,  triumphant  Christian,  with  the  glo- 
rious ring  of  assurance  upon  thy  finger  !  Cast  not 
away  thy  confidence,  which  hath  "  great  recom- 
pence  of  reward."  But  stay,  I  have  a  word  for 
thee,  also,  which  may  be  useful.  Ponder  it  in  thy 
heart : 

"  Let  him  that  thinketh  he  standeth  take  heed  lest 
he  fall,"   1  Cor.  x.  12. 

"  How  far  is  it  to  Canaan  ?"  inquires  the  afflicted 
Christian  ;  "  for  I  have  lain  a  long  while  upon  the 
bed  of  suffering.  '  Wearisome  nights  are  appointed 
to  me '     I  am  full  of  tossing  to  and  fro  unto  the 


20  HOW   FAR   IS   IT   TO   CANAAN? 

dawning  of  day.  l  Oh  that  I  had  wings  like  a 
-dove !  for  then  I  would  fly  away,  and  be  at  rest.'  " 

Be  of  good  cheer,  afflicted  Christian!  The 
heavier  the  cross,  the  more  pleasant  will  be  the 
crown.  If  we  suffer  with  Christ  we  shall  be  glo- 
rified with  Christ.  I  have  a  word  to  refresh  the 
fainting  soul,  and  will  now  give  it  thee : 

a  The  sufferings  of  this  present  time  are  not  wor- 
thy to  be  compared  with  the  glory  which  shall  be 
revealed  in  us,"  Rom.  viii.  18. 

"  How  far  is  it  to  Canaan?"  asks  the  persecuted 
Christian  ;  "  for  I  am  an  outcast  from  my  family,  a 
stranger  upon  earth  ;  like  my  Lord,  I  am  '  despised 
and  rejected  of  men.'  '  Many  are  they  that  rise  up 
against  me,'  and  '  they  hate  me  with  cruel  hatred.'  " 

Hold  on  thy  way  persecuted  Christian :  it  is  a 
safe  one,  and  a  blessed  one,  yea,  the  one  thy  Re- 
deemer trod  before  thee.  Dost  thou  want  a  wo^d 
of  consolation  ?  I  will  give  it  thee,  lay  it  up  in  thy 
bosom : 

"  Blessed  are  ye,  when  men  shall  hate  you,  and 
when  they  shall  separate  you  from  their  company, 
and  shall  reproach  you,  and  cast  out  your  name  as 
evil,  for  the  Son  of  man's  sake.  Rejoice  ye  in  that 
day,  and  leap  for  joy :  for,  behold,  your  reward  is 
great  in  heaven,"   Luke  vi.  22,  23. 

"  How  far  is  it  to  Canaan  V1  sighs  the  bereaved 
Christian  ;  "  for  I  am  a  lonely  and  desolate  pilgrim. 
All  that  were  dear  to  me  upon  earth  are  taken 
away.      My  tears  have  been  my  meat  day  and 


HOW    FAR    IS    IT    TO    CANAAN?  21 

night,  and  my  soul  yearns  for  the  land  where  there 
shall  be  no  more  death,  neither  sorrow  nor  crying. 

Pass  on,  bereaved  Christian ;  the  more  lonely 
thy  pilgrimage,  the  more  pleasant  will  be  the  com- 
pany of  the  "  shining  ones  "  that  await  thee,  and  the 
sweeter  thy  reception  at  the  end  of  thy  journey. 
The  Lord  whom  thou  seekest,  hath  a  special  care 
and  pity  for  his  desolate  ones.  Take  these  words 
with  thee,  and  they  may  refresh  thy  spirit.  For 
even  though  they  be  desolate — 

u  The  redeemed  of  the  Lord  shall  return,  and 
come  with  singing  unto  Zion  ;  and  everlasting  joy 
shall  be  upon  their  head :  they  shall  obtain  gladness 
and  joy;  and  sorrow  and  mourning  shall  flee 
away,"  Isa.  li.  11. 

"How  far  is  it  to  Canaan?"  asks  the  dying 
Christian ;  "  for  the  swellings  of  Jordan  are  risen 
about  my  soul.  Fearfulness  and  trembling  are 
come  upon  me,  '  and  the  terrors  of  death  are  fallen 
upon  me.'  Alas  !  I  sink  in  deep  waters :  I  shall 
not  see  the  land  that  flows  with  milk  and  honey." 

Look  up,  poor  dying  Christian ;  for  yonder  is 
the  bright  and  morning  star :  thy  night  is  far  spent, 
and  the  day  is  at  hand.  Is  thine  arm  too  feeble  to 
be  put  forth  for  the  book  of  God,  then  I  must  even 
hold  it  up  before  thine  eyes.  Look  on  these  words, 
and  let  neither  flood  nor  flame  affright  thee  ;  be  of 
good  courage,  for  they  are  the  words  of  Him  who 
has  promised,  when  flesh  and  heart  fail,  to  be  the 
strength  of  thy  heart,  and  thy  portion  for  ever : 


22  HOW   FAIt   IS   IT   TO   CANAAN  ? 

"  When  thou  passcst  through  the  waters,  I  will 
be  with  thee ;  and  through  the  rivers,  they  shall 
not  overflow  thee :  when  thou  walkest  through  the 
fire,  thou  shalt  not  be  burned ;  neither  shall  the 
flame  kindle  upon  thee.  For  I  am  the  Lord  thy 
God,  the  Holy  One  of  Israel,  thy  Saviour,"  Isa. 
xliii.  2,  3. 


THE  RAIL-ROAD  STATION. 

I  have  but  just  returned  from  the  rail-road  sta- 
tion, where  every  one  I  saw  seemed  to  have  ardour 
in  his  heart,  and  hurry  in  his  eye.  If  we  were 
half  as  much  in  earnest  in  preparing  for  heaven  as 
we  are  for  our  jaunts  of  pleasure,  and  our  journeys 
of  business,  it  would  be  something !  What  a  bus- 
tle pervaded  the  whole  station  !  loading  and  unload- 
ing, running  backwards  and  forwards,  some  going 
into  the  carriages,  and  others  coming  out,  while  the 
rattling  vehicles  set  off  and  arrived  by  turns. 

In  the  midst  of  all  this  bustle,  I  noticed  a  man 
walking  coolly  along  with  a  tin  pan  in  his  hand, 
greasing  the  wheels  of  the  carriages.  He  took  no 
notice  of  the  fine  folk  or  the  bustle :  whoever  and 
whatever  the  people  might  be,  did  not  appear  at  all 


THE    RAIL-ROAD    STATION.  23 

to  trouble  his  head :  whither  they  came  or  went, 
was  no  business  of  his ;  on  he  went  with  his  em- 
ployment :  it  was  his  duty  to  grease  the  wheels,  and 
grease  the  wheels  he  did. 

Thinks  I  to  myself,  "  Here's  a  lesson  for  me. 
This  man  is  but  a  picture  of  what  I  should  be." 
Oh  that  I  had  humility  and  godly  integrity  enough 
in  my  heart  to  go  straight  on  with  my  work! 
"  greasing  the  wheels,"  if  needs  be !  patiently  and 
cheerfully  occupying  the  lowest  station  assigned  me 
by  duty,  until  it  should  be  said  unto  me,  "  Friend, 
go  up  higher,"  Luke  xiv.  10. 


NOTHING  AND  SOMETHING. 

Listen  to  an  old  man  who,  among  the  multiplic- 
ity of  his  words,  may  drop  a  few  not  undeserving 
your  attention.  Listen  to  an  old  man.  There  is 
no  way  of  passing  through  this  world  in  safety, 
without  having  the  word  of  God  before  our  eyes, 
and  the  grace  of  God  in  our  hearts.  If  this  be  true, 
and  undoubtedly  it  is,  then  the  Word  of  God  and 
the  grace  of  God  ought  to  be  our  daily  delight. 

Now,  the  word  of  God  and  the  grace  of  God 
both  instruct  us,  that  we  value  many  things  very 


24  NOTHING   AND    SOMETHING. 

highly  here  below,  which  are  of  no  value  and  esti- 
mation at  all  in  His  eyes,  who  trieth  the  hearts  and 
the  reins  of  the  children  of  men.  Many  things 
which  we  consider  as  something,  are  with  Him  as 

NOTHING. 

Among  men,  it  is  considered  a  great  and  glorious 
thing  to  lay  up  riches,  and  to  increase  in  treasures 
abundantly ;  but  the  word  of  God  says,  "  Labour 
not  to  be  rich :  cease  from  thine  own  wisdom.  Wilt 
thou  set  thine  eyes  upon  that  which  is  not?  for 
riches  certainly  make  themselves  wings ;  they  fly 
away  as  an  eagle  toward  heaven,"  Pro  v.  xxiii.  4,  5. 
"  What  is  a  man  profited  if  he  shall  gain  the  whole 
world,  and  lose  his  own  soul?"  Matt.  xvi.  26.  It 
appears,  then,  that  though  riches  are  something 
among  men,  they  are  nothing  before  God. 

Among  men,  it  is  considered  especially  desirable 
to  get  the  friendship  of  the  world  ;  but  the  word  of 
God  says,  "  Love  not  the  world,  neither  the  things 
that  are  in  the  world.  If  any  man  love  the  world, 
the  love  of  the  Father  is  not  in  him,"  1  John  ii.  15. 
"  Know  ye  not  that  the  friendship  of  the  world  is 
enmity  with  God  ?  whosoever  therefore  will  be  a 
friend  of  the  world  is  the  enemy  of  God,"  Jas,  iv.  4. 
The  friendships  of  the  world,  then,  valuable  as  they 
may  appear,  though  they  are  something  among 
men,  are  nothing  with  God. 

Among  men,  it  is  considered  commendable  to  be 
thoughtful  for  the  future,  and  to  manifest  anxiety  to 
provide  for  themselves  and  those  who  shall  como 


NOTHING    AND    SOMETHING.  25 

after  tbem  ;  but  the  word  of  God  forbids  all  undue 
desire  and  anxiety  about  these  things :  "  Take  no 
thought,  saying,  What  shall  we  eat  ?  or,  What  shall 
we  drink?  or,  Wherewithal  shall  we  be  clothed? — 
for  your  heavenly  Father  knovveth  that  ye  have 
need  of  all  these  things.  But  seek  ye  first  the  king- 
dom of  God,  and  his  righteousness ;  and  all  these 
things  shall  be  added  unto  you,"  Matt.  vi.  31 — 33. 
Among  men,  these  things  are  something,  but  they 
are  nothing  with  God. 

It  is  thought  to  be  an  excellent  thing  ameng  men, 
to  sit  in  the  first  places  of  the  synagogue,  to  make 
long  prayers,  and  to  give  money  to  feed  the  poor  ; 
but  the  word  of  God  points  to  the  heart,  to  the  mo- 
tive of  the  mind,  and  considers  these  things  of  no 
avail,  unless  accompanied  with  sincere  charity. 
"  Though  I  speak  with  the  tongues  of  men  and  of 
angels,  and  have  not  charity,  I  am  become  as  sound- 
ing brass,  or  a  tinkling  cymbal. — Though  I  bestow 
all  my  goods  to  feed  the  poor,  and  though  I  give 
my  body  to  be  burned,  and  have  not  charity,  it  pro- 
fiteth  me  nothing,"  1  Cor.  xiii.  1.  These  things, 
then,  though  something  among  men,  are  nothing 
before  God. 

1  Living,  as  we  do,  in  a  world  of  sin  and  sorrow, 
with  temptations  without,  and  a  heart  of  unbelief 
within  us,  we  are  continually  underrating  what  is  of 
great  value,  and  attaching  an  importance  to  what  is 
worthless ;  and  it  would  be  almost  impossible  to 
3 


26  NOTHING   AND    SOMETHING. 

point  out  in  how  many  instances  we  consider  things 
something,  which,  alas  !  are  nothing. 

But  if  riches,  and  the  friendship  of  the  world,  and 
worldly  wisdom,  and  formal  prayers,  and  ostenta- 
tious almsgiving-,  are  as  nothing  with  God  ;  it  be- 
comes us  to  consider  what  are  those  things  that  will 
be  considered  something  in  his  sight. 

An  humble  heart,  fervent  charity,  submission  to 
the  will  of  God,  reverence  for  his  holy  word,  de- 
pendence on  his  precious  promises,  and  an  unre- 
served confidence  in  our  Lord  and  Saviour  for  life 
and  salvation ;  these  things  let  us  seek,  in  His  name 
that  is  above  every  name  ;  for  though  they  may  be 
accounted  as  nothing  before  men,  they  are  some- 
thing before  God,  and  will  be  proved  to  be  so  when 
every  thing  worldly  shall  become  "  less  than  noth- 
ing, and  vanity." 


HALLELUIAH  ! 

I  love  to  pluck  a  daisy  or  a  buttercup  in  my 
path,  and  to  stick  it  in  my  bosom.  Now  there  are 
daisies  and  buttercups  to  be  found  in  the  every-day 
occurrences  of  life,  as  fair  to  look  upon  as  the  flow- 
ers  of  the  field. 


HALLELUIAH.  27 

There  is  a  text  of  holy  Scripture  which  says, 
u  Whether  therefore  ye  eat,  or  drink,  or  whatsoever 
ye  do,  do  all  to  the  glory  of  God,"  1  Cor.  x.  31. 
And  a  letter  that  I  have  but  just  received  from  a 
Christian  correspondent  in  the  country  supplies  me 
with  an  excellent  practical  illustration.  The  whole 
epistle  has  in  it  but  four  short  lines :  the  last  two  of 
these  are  as  follow.  "  I  am  going  out  to  dinner. 
Country  delightful.    Crops  abundant.    Halleluiah!" 

Now  this  is  just  what  I  like.  Most  people  know 
that  Halleluiah  means,  "  Praise  ye  the  Lord  j"  and 
we  can  all  of  us  thank  God  for  great  favors,  but 
how  few  of  us  put  a  Halleluiah  to  the  record  of 
our  common  mercies  !  It  strikes  me  that  it  would 
be  no  bad  method  to  find  out  the  lawfulness  of  our 
pleasures,  and  the  spiritual  state  of  our  affections, 
if  we  were  each  to  ask  this  question  in  the  midst  of 
every  enjoyment — u  Can  I  put  up  a  hearty  Halle- 
luiah at  the  end  of  it  ?" 


THE  BOOK  OF  TIME. 

In  a  melancholy  mood  I  turned  over,  in  my  fan- 
cy, some  of  the  dark  pages  of  the  book  of  time. 


28  THE   BOOK   OF   TIME. 

The  volume  readily  opened  where  the  pagfc  n-as 
inscribed,  "  Crime." 

It  was  the  record  of  human  deeds,  but  demons 
alone  could  have  prompted  them.  All  that  is  sel- 
fish, designing,  dark  and  deadly ;  all  that  envy, 
hatred,  malice,  and  uncharitableness  could  suggest 
and  execute,  was  registered  there.  I  read,  and  as  I 
read  I  trembled  ;  for  earth  seemed  crying  aloud  to 
Heaven  to  avenge  the  countless  iniquities  of  mortal 
men.  Hot-headed  rage,  red-handed  murder,  and 
cold-hearted  villany,  unsparingly  pursued  their  wild 
career.  Truly  "  out  of  the  heart  proceed  evil 
thoughts,  murders,  adulteries,  fornications,  thefts, 
false  witness,  blasphemies,"  Matt.  xv.  19.  I  hurried 
through  the  shadowy  paragraphs  before  me,  and 
turned  over  the  page. 

"  War  "  was  the  heading  that  I  lighted  on,  and 
I  sickened  at  the  sight.  War,  relentless,  bitter,  ac- 
cursed, and  cruel,  has  flung  its  plagues  upon  all 
nations.  Fear  goes  before  it,  and  famine  and  death 
tread  upon  its  heels.  I  read  with  horror  of  seiges 
where  fire  and  sword  wasted  the  city  ;  of  battle 
plains  where  the  war-horse  trod  fetlock  deep  in 
gore  ;  of  bayonets  sheathed  in  human  bosoms,  and 
of  murderous  cannon  sweeping  down  the  multitude, 
as  the  mower  cuts  down  grass  with  his  scythe. 

I  pressed  the  leaves  together  in  haste,  and  opened 
them  at  another  part ;  my  eye  fell  on  the  word 
"  Oppression."     Could  it  be  that  man,  to  whom 


THE   BOOK   OF   TIME.  29 

forbearance  and  loving-kindness  is  continually  ex- 
tended by  the  Father  of  mercies,  could  practise 
such  remorseless  cruelties  !  I  pondered  on  the 
darkened  page ;  the  strong  had  oppressed  the  weak, 
the  rich  had  ground  the  faces  of  the  poor  ;  misera- 
ble multitudes,  unjustly  accused,  had  stretched  their 
fettered  limbs  in  gloomy  dungeons  ;  and  countless 
throngs  of  oppressed  fellow-men,  with  agonizing 
groans,  had  perished  in  slavery. 

I  read  no  more :  I  closed  the  hateful  volume, 
and  could  almost  have  howled  out  an  anathema 
against  human  depravity.  But  in  opening  the  book 
of  life,  the  gospel  of  peace,  I  met  with  the  words, 
"  Thou  art  inexcusable,  O  man,  whosoever  thou  art 
that  judgest:  for  wherein  thou  judgest  another, 
thou  condemnest  thyself;  for  thou  that  judgest  doest 
the  same  things,"  Rom.  ii.  1. 

And  had  my  heart  within  it  the  germs  of  these 
enormities  ?  Yes,  in  its  very  core  the  seeds  of  sin 
were  thickly  set,  and  matchless  grace  and  immeas- 
urable mercy  alone  had  prevented  the  acorn  from 
becoming  an  oak,  and  the  mustard-seed  from  spring- 
ing up  as  the  largest  of  all  trees.  My  mouth  was 
stopped,  my  heart  was  humbled.  "  Who  can  un- 
derstand his  errors  ?  cleanse  thou  me  from  secret 
faults.  Keep  back  thy  servant  also  from  presump- 
tuous sins  ;  let  them  not  have  dominion  over  me  ; 
then  shall  I  be  upright,  and  I  shall  be  innocent 
from  the  great  transgression.     Let  the  words  of  my 


30  THE   J300K   OF   TIME. 

mouth,  and  the  meditation  of  my  heart,  be  accepta- 
ble in  thy  sight,  O  Lord,  my  strength,  and  my  Re- 
deemer !"  Psa.  xix.  12 — 14. 


THE  PLEASANT  FIELD. 

Old  Humphrey  loves  a  ramble,  and  he  has  been 
taking-  one.  It  was  a  pleasant  knolly  field,  one 
part  of  which  was  so  covered  with  cowslips,  that 
had  a  myriad  of  them  been  taken  away,  the  very 
bees  that  were  buzzing  from  flower  to  flower,  would 
scarcely  have  missed  them. 

Into  that  field  came  suddenly  a  party  of  young 
people  ;  children  from  three  years  old  to  seven, 
boys  and  girls,  with  ruddy  cheeks,  sparkling  eyes, 
and  hearts  running  over  with  happiness.  Their 
attendant  could  scarcely  control  them  :  indeed  she 
hardly  appeared  to  wish  so  to  do,  but  rather  to  leave 
them  to  their  own  wild  delight. 

Like  lambs  suddenly  let  loose  from  the  fold,  they 
burst  into  the  field,  wonder  and  joy  beaming  in  eve- 
ry face.  What  running,  racing,  and  romping  ! 
What  laughing,  hallooing,  and  gambolling!  It  was 
long  before  they  were  sober  enough  to  gather  the 
flowerets  quietly.     Heartily  did  I  give  them  my 


THE   PLEASANT   FIELD.  31 

"blessing,  for  my  heart  yearned  towards  them,  that 
they  might  not  be  happy  that  hour  only,  but  that 
God  would  satisfy  them  early  with  his  mercy,  that 
they  might  rejoice  and  be  glad  all  their  days. 

"  I  love  to  look  on  a  scene  like  this, 
Of  wild  and  careless  play, 
And  persuade  myself  that  I  am  not  old, 
And  my  locks  are  not  yet  grey ; 

For  it  stirs  the  blood  in  an  old  man's  heart, 

And  it  makes  his  pulses  fly, 
To  catch  the  thrill  of  a  happy  voice, 

And  the  light  of  a  pleasant  eye." 


THE  BALD-HEADED  SEXTON. 

Listen,  ye  thoughtless  young  topers !  Listen,  ye 
hoary-headed  swill-pots,  to  Old  Humphrey's  tale 
of  the  Bald-headed  Sexton. 

"  See  yonder  maker  of  the  dead  man's  bed, 

The  sexton,  hoary-headed  chronicle  ! 

Of  hard  unmeaning  face,  down  which  ne'er  stole 

A  gentle  tear,  with  mattock  in  his  hand, 

Digs  through  whole  rows  of  kindred  ana  acquaintance, 

By  far  his  juniors  !  scarce  a  skull's  cast  up 

But  well  he  knew  its  owner,  and  can  tell 


32  THE   BALD-HEADED    SEXTON. 

Some  passage  of  his  life.     Thus  hand  in  hand 
The  sot  has  walked  with  death  twice  twenty  years, 
And  yet  ne'er  yonker  on  the  green  laughs  louder, 
Or  clubs  a  smuttier  tale  :  when  drunkards  meet 
None  sings  a  merrier  catch,  or  lends  a  hand 
More  ready  to  his  cup.     Poor  wretch  !  he  minds  not 
That  soon  some  trusty  brother  of  the  trade 
Shall  do  for  him,  what  he  has  done  for  thousands." 

Blair. 

Abel  Austin  was  about  twelve  years  old,  when, 
in  the  season  of  autumn,  he  went  on  a  visit  to  a 
little  village  in  the  west.  Not  being  accustomed  to 
the  country,  every  object  was  interesting  to  him. 
He  walked  across  the  green  and  sat  on  the  bench 
under  the  trees,  where  the  aged  people  of  the  vil- 
lage, at  the  going  down  of  the  sun,  often  got  to- 
gether, and  talked  of  days  gone  by. 

He  stood  at  the  door  of  the  blacksmith's  shop, 
while  the  bellows  blew  up  the  roaring  fire,  and 
hundreds  of  sparkles  fled  in  all  directions  from  the 
red  hot  iron  as  it  was  hammered  on  the  anvil.  He 
called  at  the  cottages,  talked  with  the  labouring 
men,  as  he  met  them  going  to  or  returning  from 
their  work,  rambled  about  the  green  fields,  and 
lingered  in  the  churchyard  among  the  old  tomb- 
stones. 

One  afternoon,  he  was  walking  from  one  green 
hillock  to  another  in  the  churchyard,  when  he 
came  to  an  old  tombstone,  almost  covered  over  with 
moss,  so  much  so  that  it  cost  him  no  little  trouble  to 
read  what  was  written  on  it.     A  loud  and  mournful 


THE   BALD-HEADED   SEXTON.  33 

toll  sounded  from  the  belfry  just  as  he  had  scraped 
away  enough  of  the  moss  to  be  enabled  to  read  the 
verse.     The  words  were  as  follow : 

Didst  hear  the  toll 

Of  that  sad  solemn  bell  1 
It  said,  "  A  soul 

Is  gone  to  heaven  or  hell." 

The  solemn  words  would  hardly  have  been 
passed  by  at  any  time  by  Abel  Austin  without  a 
pause ;  but  the  tolling  of  the  bell  made  them  appear 
more  striking  than  they  otherwise  would  have  been. 
Abel  stood  looking  at  the  old  stone,  and  once  mom 
he  read  the  inscription. 

All  this  while  the  old  bald-headed  sexton  was 
throwing  out  the  earth  from  a  grave  he  was  dig- 
ging. For  a  time,  Abel  saw  his  hands,  when  he 
lifted  them  up  above  his  head  to  throw  out  the  dirt, 
but  presently  he  got  so  low,  that  the  spade  only 
could  be  seen,  and  at  last,  the  earth  was  thrown  out 
without  even  the  spade  being  visible.  When  the 
sexton  got  out  of  the  grave,  Abel  went  up  to  talk 
with  him. 

"  Who  is  going  to  be  buried  here  ?"  said  he. 

"  A  man  that  was  old  enough  to  be  my  father," 
replied  the  sexton,  as  he  threw  a  spadefull  of  earth 
over  a  leg  bone,  which  had  been  thrown  out  of  the 
grave,  and  then  patted  it  down.  "  Pity  but  what  he 
had  died  long  ago,"  continued  he,  "then  there  would 
have  been  more  room  for  the  rest  of  us." 


34  THE   BALD-HEADED    SEXTON. 

Here  again  the  sexton  struck  the  edge  of  his 
spade  on  something  embedded  in  the  mould ;  it  was 
a  skull,  and  the  unfeeling  manner  in  which  he 
struck  it,  and  covered  it  over,  showed  that  his  em- 
ployment as  a  gravedigger  had  somewhat  hardened 
his  heart. 

"  I  knows  whose  skull  that  is,"  said  he.  "  Many 
a  pot  o'beer  has  Joe  Larkin  and  me  had  together ; 
'hut  he  must  have  been  dead  this  five-and-twenty 
years  ago.  He  was  a  rare'un  at  the  tankard,  and 
kept  it  up  as  well  as  here  and  there  one  ;  but,  in  a 
drunken  fit,  he,  some  how,  got  down  to  the  milldam, 
and  there  he  was  drowned." 

Here  the  bell,  which  had  stopped  for  some  time, 
most  likely  through  the  inattention  of  the  lad  in  the 
belfry,  again  sounded  in  a  solemn  manner.  It  went 
to  the  heart  of  Abel  Austin ;  but  the  bald-headed 
gravedigger  thought  nothing  about  the  matter. 

"  When  Joe  was  alive,"  continued  the  sexton,  as 
he  put  his  hands  into  the  armholes  of  his  red  waist- 
coat to  throw  it  over  his  head,  for  he  had  been 
working  without  his  waistcoat  and  his  jacket — 
u  When  Joe  was  alive,  there  was  jolly  work  with 
us  at  the  Malt  Shovel.  Him  and  I  and  the  black- 
smith were  cronies,  and  we  had  been  drinking  to- 
gether the  night  that  Joe  got  drowned.  When  he 
was  almost  done  up,  I  challenged  him  to  another 
mug,  and  that  settled  him.  He  got  out  of  his  way 
in  going  home,  and  then  fell,  as  I  said,  into  the  mill- 


THE    BALD-HEADED    SEXTON.  35 

pool.  He  might  have  had  better  luck,  but  we  can't 
live  for  ever." 

The  lines  on  the  tombstone,  the  tolling  of  the  bell, 
and  the  opened  grave,  had  disposed  Abel  to  serious 
thought,  and  the  profane,  unfeeling  conversation  of 
the  bald-headed  sexton  made  him  shudder.  The 
careless  way  in  which  he  had  struck  the  skull  of 
his  old  companion  seemed  to  amount  to  cruelty, 
and  especially  when  it  was  considered  that  he  was, 
in  some  measure,  the  cause  of  his  untimely  end. 

Abel  Austin  was  so  struck  with  the  hardhearted- 
ness  of  the  sexton,  that  he  could  not  speak  to  him 
another  word.  He  did,  it  is  true,  intend  to  say 
something,  and  the  verse  on  the  old  tomb-stone  was 
on  the  tip  of  his  tongue ;  but  the  sexton,  with  his 
shining  bald  head,  having  stuck  on  his  hat  all  on 
one  side,  and  thrown  his  blue  jacket  over  his  shoul- 
der, walked  whistling  towards  the  belfry  door  with 
his  spade  in  his  hand. 

When  Abel  returned  home,  he  had  much  to  say 
about  his  country  visit.  He  talked  of  the  great 
house,  the  neat  cottages,  the  blacksmith's  shop,  the 
village  green,  the  pleasant  fields,  and  the  church- 
yard, nor  did  he  forget  to  speak  of  the  bald-headed 
sexton.  But  it  is  wonderful  how  soon  impressions 
wear  away  from  the  minds  of  young  people.  They 
are  like  words  written  on  the  snow,  or  on  the  sand 
of  the  sea-shore,  which  the  heat  of  the  sun,  or  the 
returning  tide,  altogether  destroys.  What  with  his 
books  and  his  playmates,  and  one  thing  or  other, 


36  THE    BALD-HEADED    SEXTON. 

Abel,  in  a  little  time,  had  forgotten  the  solemn  lines 
on  the  stone,  and  even  the  bald-headed  sexton  was 
no  more  remembered. 

Winter  came  with  its  frosts  and  snows,  spring 
arrived  with  its  flowers  and  singing  birds,  summer 
spread  its  grateful  influence  around,  and  autumn, 
abundant  autumn,  again  visited  the  land,  adorning 
it  with  loaded  fruit  trees  and  crops  of  golden  grain  : 
once  more  Abel  Austin  went  to  spend  a  little  time 
at  the  village. 

Old  scenes  bring  back  to  our  remembrance  many 
things  which  we  had  forgotten  ;  and  this  was  the 
case  with  Abel :  the  sight  of  the  village  church  di- 
rectly brought  with  it  the  figure  of  the  bald-headed 
sexton. 

The  very  first  walk  that  Abel  took,  after  his  arri- 
val at  the  village,  was  to  the  churchyard,  where,  as 
he  entered  the  little  gate  at  the  corner,  he  again 
heard  the  bell  toll.  He  walked  up  to  the  old  grave- 
stone, and  found  the  inscription  in  much  the  same 
state  as  he  had  left  it,  save  that  the  moss  was  gradu- 
ally filling  up  the  letters.  Though  he  had  not 
thought  about  the  verse,  it  again  came  into  his  mem- 
ory even  before  he  read  it  on  the  stone. 

He  had  not  mused  long  at  the  spot,  when  he  saw 
at  a  distance  a  man  coming  across  the  green  hil- 
locks with  a  spade  and  a  long  iron  borer  on  his 
shoulder.  He  came  up  within  a  few  yards  of  the 
old  tombstone  ;  and  then,  putting  down  his  spade, 
he  began  to  bore  into  the  ground  with  the  long  iron 


THE   BALD-HEADED    SEXTON.  37 

rod,  that  he  might  know  whether  there  was  a  coffin 
or  not  where  he  was  about  to  dig  a  grave.  In  a 
short  time,  he  set  to  work  in  earnest  to  dig  a  full- 
sized  grave. 

Abel  Austin  drew  near  to  ask  after  the  bald- 
headed  sexton,  for  his  mind  misgave  him ;  very- 
likely  he  might  have  died  since  his  last  visit.  "  You 
are  not  the  gravedigger  that  was  here  last  year," 
said  he,  addressing  the  man.  "  No,"  was  the  reply, 
u  and  you'll  not  see  him  again  neither.  Old  bald- 
headed  Nokes  has  done  his  day's  work  at  last,  and 
I  am  now  digging  his  grave.  He  took  a  mug  too 
many  at  the  Malt  Shovel  on  Saturday  night,  and 
broke  his  neck  in  tumbling  from  the  bank  side  into 
the  hollow  way.  He  has  covered  up  many  a  one 
in  his  time,  and  I'll  cover  him  up  now." 

The  bell  tolled  again,  while  the  gravedigger 
made  this  careless,  profane  remark  ;  and  Abel  Aus- 
tin, with  a  shudder,  turned  his  eyes  to  the  old  grave- 
stone, and  walked  thoughtfully  away,  repeating  the 
lines, 

Didst  hear  the  toll 

Of  that  sad  solemn  bell  1 
It  said,  "A  soul 

Is  gone  to  heaven  or  hell." 


TURN  YOUR  TELESCOPE. 

"  I  will  lift  up  mine  eyes  unto  the  hills,  from  whence  cometh 
my  help." — Psa.  cxxi.  1. 

When  a  child,  I  caught  up  a  telescope  to  view 
more  distinctly  a  distant  object,  but  soon  found  my- 
self worse  off  than  ever  ;  for  the  object  in  question 
appeared  smaller  and  farther  off  than  before.  "  Turn 
your  telescope  !"  said  a  friend  who  was  standing  at 
my  elbow :  "  turn  your  telescope  ;  for  you  are  look- 
ing through  the  wrong  end  of  it :  when  the  tele- 
scope is  turned,  matters  will  be  mended." 

Christian,  art  thou  dismayed  in  thinking  how  lit- 
tle and  how  changeable  thy  love  is  to  God  1  Turn 
the  telescope  ;  for  things  will  only  get  worse  while 
thine  eye  is  fixed  where  it  now  is :  look  through 
the  other  end,  and  thou  wilt  behold  the  vastness  and 
the  unchangeableness  of  God's  love  to  thee.  Again, 
I  say,  turn  the  telescope  ;  for  a  steady  gaze  at  God's 
love  to  us,  and  his  promises  in  the  gospel,  is  the 
best  means  to  excite  our  love  to  God. 


THIS  WORLD,  OR  THE  NEXT? 

There  are  many  people  in  the  world  who  like 
religion,  and  who  love  religion  ;  but  then,  much  as 
the)^  like  and  love  it,  they  like  and  love  the  world  a 
great  deal  more.  So  long  as  we  like  and  love  reli- 
gion less  than  the  world,  we  cannot  fully  enjoy  its 
comforts  and  consolations. 

There  are  thousands  who  would  be  seekers  after 
the  happiness  of  heaven,  if  they  could  do  so  without 
foregoing  the  pleasures  of  earth.  This  world  first, 
and  heaven  after,  would  do  very  well ;  but  "  Seek 
ye  first  the  kingdom  of  God  "  is  too  hard  a  com- 
mand for  them.  For  them ! — Ay !  it  is  too  hard 
for  any  of  us,  unless  God's  grace  has  made  it  easy. 

Now,  how  does  this  matter  affect  you  and  me  ? 
Are  we  choosing  our  own  plan,  or  God's  plan? 
Are  we  obeying  our  own  will,  or  God's  will? 
Have  we  made  up  our  minds,  come  what  will,  to 
run  after  the  pleasures  of  a  world  which  passeth 
away  ?  or  are  we  resolved,  at  all  hazards,  to  seek 
after  the  joys  of  a  world  that  endureth  for  ever  ? 


THE  TONGUE. 

Let  an  old  man  speak,  for  he  may  not  long  have 
the  opportunity  ;  and  let  him  be  heard,  and  heeded 
too,  for  his  words  are  worth  a  moment's  considera- 
tion. 

The  tongue  has  set  more  people  by  the  ears, 
ruined  the  peace  of  more  families,  and  done  more 
mischief  in  the  world,  than  all  the  highwaymen 
that  were  ever  hung.  He  that  sets  his  neighbour's 
premises  on  fire  with  a  torch  is  taken  up  and  tried 
for  his  life ;  but  he  that  inflames  the  hearts  of  his 
neighbours  with  his  tongue  is  allowed  to  go  free. 
Sometimes  he  propagates  the  lie  of  his  own  making, 
and  sometimes  the  unfounded  report  of  another, 
going  forth  with  the  poison  of  asps  under  his  lips  ; 
and  covers  over  the  sin  of  his  evil  speaking,  lying, 
and  slandering,  with  the  poor,  pitiful  excuse,  that 
he  has  "  heard  it  said  so." 

When  a  house  is  on  fire,  though  the  flame  bursts 
through  the  floors,  wraps  round  the  walls,  and  rages 
among  the  rafters,  you  may  arrest  its  progress  with 
a  water-engine;  or  you  may  restrain  it  from  setting 
other  houses  on  fire ;  or,  even  if  it  should  burn 
down  a  whole  street,  a  village,  or  a  town,  there  is 
an  end  to  it :  but  where  is  the  end  to  the  raging  of 
the  tongue  ?     "  The  tongue  is  a  fire,  a  world  of 


THE    TONGUE.  41 

iniquity,"  James  iii.  6.  It  spreads  far  and  wide,  it 
compasses  sea  and  land,  and  no  engine  can  repress 
its  power :  of  all  conflagrations,  there  is  none  so 
rapid,  wide-spreading,  and  destructive,  as  the  confla- 
gration of  the  tongue. 

The  sword  is  a  deadly  instrument,  and  many  are 
the  mighty  that  it  has  laid  low  ;  yet  it  is  not  half  so 
deadly  as  the  tongue.  The  teeth  of  the  sons  of 
men  "  are  spears  and  arrows,  and  their  tongue  a 
sharp  sword,"  Psa.  lvii.  4.  Where  one  has  been 
injured  by  the  sword,  a  hundred  have  been  wounded 
by  the  tongue :  the  sword  provoketh  to  momentary 
contention ;  but  the  tongue,  by  its  grevious  words, 
stirs  up  lasting  anger,  envy,  hatred,  malice,  and  un- 
charitableness. 

Fierce  are  the  wild  beasts  of  the  forest,  when 
pressed  by  hunger  ;  for  they  spare  not,  neither  show 
pity  to  the  traveller  that  falls  in  their  way.  Savage 
are  the  wolf,  the  hyena,  and  the  tiger ;  mighty  is 
the  elephant,  and  terrible  the  lion,  the  monarch  of 
the  woods  ;  but  these  are  not  so  fierce  as  the  tongue, 
nor  so  untamable,  for  they  may  be  subdued  and 
made  gentle  as  the  lamb.  -  Every  kind  of  beasts, 
and  of  birds,  and  of  serpents,  and  of  things  in  the 
sea,  is  tamed,  and  hath  been  tamed  of  mankind : 
but  the  tongue  can  no  man  tame,"  James  iii.  7,  8. 

Dreadful  is  the  plague  when  the  leprous  spot 

spreads  in  the  flesh.     When  the  infectious  breath 

and  contaminating  touch  conspire  to  carry  on  the 

pestilence  through  the  crowded  city,  mourning  and 

4* 


42  THE   TONGUE. 

lamentations  increase,  desolation  and  death  abound ; 
but  the  tongue  destroys  health,  peace,  and  reputa- 
tion. "  Death  and  life  are  in  the  power  of  the 
tongue  ;"  it  wounds  not  only  the  body,  but  the  spirit. 
It  not  only  injures  the  living,  but  blasts  with  its 
pestilential  poison  the  character  of  the  dead.  "  What 
shall  be  done  unto  thee,  thou  false  tongue  ?"  The 
flame,  the  sword,  the  wild  beast  and  the  pestilence, 
all  together,  do  not  half  so  much  injury  to  mankind 
as  the  tongue.  Our  prayer  should  go  forth  in  the 
morning,  and  be  again  repeated  at  eventide,  "  Lord, 
cleanse  thou  my  heart,  and  keep  thou  my  tongue 
from  evil."  God  hateth  "  a  proud  look  "  and  "  a 
lying  tongue;"  but  "the  tongue  of  the  wise  is 
health." 

"  Lord,  who  shall  abide  in  thy  tabernacle  ?  who 
shall  dwell  in  thy  holy  hill  ?  He  that  walketh  up- 
rightly, and  worketh  righteousness,  and  speaketh 
the  truth  in  his  heart.  He  that  backbiteth  not  with 
his  tongue,  nor  doeth  evil  to  his  neighbour,  nor 
taketh  up  a  reproach  against  his  neighbour,"  Psa. 
xv.  1—3. 

O  God,  thy  goodness  and  thy  love 

Preserve  the  old  and  young : 
Lead  thou  my  wandering  heart  above 

And  guard  and  guide  my  tongue. 


THE  CORNCRAKE. 

When  walking  abroad  in  the  country,  it  is  not 
one  thing,  but  every  thing,  that  seems  to  set  forth  a 
lesson  of  instruction.  Every  tree  of  the  field,  every 
branch  of  the  tree,  every  spray  of  the  branch,  and 
every  leaf  of  the  spray,  appears  to  address  Old 
Humphrey. 

One  evening,  on  returning  home  through  some 
fields  of  mowing  grass,  I  stopped  short  on  hearing 
the  noise  of  the  landrail,  or  corncrake,  so  called 
from  the  well  known  sound  it  so  constantly  utters. 
Many  a  time  had  I  listened  to  the  corncrake,  and 
compared  its  noise  to  the  creaking  of  a  thick  branch 
in  the  winds  ;  and  many  a  time  had  I  hunted  in 
vain  to  find  it.  But  this  time  it  seemed  close  at 
hand. 

"  Just  by  that  sprig  of  green  sorrel,"  said  I  to 
myself,  as  I  tripped  over  the  grass,  "  I  shall  find  it;" 
but  no  such  thing !  When  I  got  there,  the  sound 
was  in  a  quite  different  direction.  Still  I  followed 
the  sound,  and  still  was  I  deceived.  Now  it  was 
behind,  and  then  before  me  ;  now  to  the  right  hand, 
and  then  to  the  left ;  but  all  of  no  use :  the  moment 
I  reached  one  place,  the  sound  was  in  another.  Re- 
peated disappointments  brought  me  back  to  the 
beaten  path.     I  did  not  discover  that  evening  where 


44  THE    COItNCRAXE. 

the  corncrake  was  ;  but  I  found  out,  to  a  certainty, 
many  places  where  it  was  not. 

Perhaps,  reader,  you  may  have  been  as  much 
disappointed  in  your  search  after  happiness,  as  I 
was  in  my  search  after  the  corncrake ;  and  perhaps, 
too,  like  me,  you  have  been  glad  to  get  back  again 
to  the  spot  whence  you  first  set  out.  I  was  led  by 
the  corncrake  a  long  dance  through  the  mowing 
grass  ;  and,  if  you  are  pursuing  earthly  happiness, 
you  will  be  led  a  long  dance  too.  Hundreds  of  us 
have  made  up  our  minds  to  be  happy :  we  have  felt 
sure  that  if  we  could  do  this,  or  get  that,  or  obtain 
the  other,  we  should  have  little  else  to  wish  for  ; 
but  we  may  as  well  join  in  a  chase  after  the  corn- 
crake, as  after  happiness  in  worldly  things  ;  for  we 
are  just  as  likely  to  catch  the  one  as  to  get  posses- 
sion of  the  other. 

We  have  countless  blessings  to  be  grateful  for  ; 
but  the  words  spoken  by  the  Redeemer  to  his  disci- 
ples were  not,  "  In  the  world  ye  shall  be  happy," 
but,  "  In  the  world  ye  shall  have  tribulation."  It 
will  be  wise,  then,  to  let  the  corncrake-happiness  of 
the  world  deceive  us  no  longer,  whether  we  hear  it 
afar  off,  or  whether  it  appears  within  our  reach. 
Let  us  give  up  the  fruitless  chase,  and  seek  peace 
only  in  Christ,  confidently  looking  forward  to  enjoy 
final  and  complete  happiness  in  His  presence,  where 
there  is  "  fulness  of  joy  "  and  "  pleasures  for  ever- 


SING  FOR  JOY. 

As  the  trumpeter  does  more  on  the  field  of  battle 
with  his  trumpet,  by  animating  his  comrades,  than 
he  could  do  with  his  sword  j  so  I,  being  a  poor 
singer,  may  do  more  by  exhorting  others  to  sing,, 
than  by  singing  myself.  "  O  sing  unto  the  Lord  a 
new  song :  sing  unto  the  Lord  all  the  earth.  Sing 
unto  the  Lord,  bless  his  name  ;  shew  forth  his  sal- 
vation from  day  to  day,"  Psa.  xcvi.  1,  2. 

Sing,  pardoned  sinner  !  for  thy  Saviour  is  called 
to  his  heavenly  throne.  He  who  died  for  thee  is  to 
be  thy  Judge.  What,  then,  hast  thou  to  fear? 
Thou  once  wast  at  enmity  with  God ;  but  now  thou 
art  reconciled  by  thine  adorable  Redeemer.  Thou 
once  wast  in  bondage  ;  but  now  thou  art  at  liberty, 
and  canst  exult  in  the  hope  of  everlasting  life. 
Sing,  sinner!  for  thy  mourning  is  turned  into  joy,# 
and  thy  fear  of  hell  exchanged  for  the  hope  of 
heaven. 

Sing,  soldier  of  the  cross !  for  the  Captain  of  thy 
salvation  has  obtained  the  victory.  The  enemies 
were  proud  and  high ;  but  they  are  humbled  and 
brought  low.  Thou  wast  a  prisoner  ;  but  thy  ran- 
som is  paid.  Sing,  soldier!  for,  though  thou  wast 
a  rebel  fighting  under  the  standard  of  sin,  now  thou 


46  SING   FOR   JOY. 

art  a  true  and  faithful  soldier  of  Jesus  Christ,  con- 
quering under  the  banner  of  the  cross. 

Sing,  sojourner  of  the  desert !  for  the  heat  and 
burden  of  the  day  are  well  nigh  past.  Thirsty 
thou  hast  been  ;  but  now  thou  hast  rivers  of  water 
in  a  dry  place.  The  sun  has  sorely  smitten  thee  ; 
but  now  thou  hast  the  shadow  of  a  great  rock  in  a 
weary  land.  Sing,  sojourner  of  the  desert!  for  the 
promised  land  is  in  view,  and  thou  shalt  enter  with 
joy  into  thy  everlasting  inheritance. 

Sing,  weary  pilgrim  !  for  thy  crooked  paths  are 
made  straight,  and  thy  rough  places  plain.  The 
burden  of  sin  that  oppressed  thee  is  taken  from  thy 
back,  and  laid  upon  another  who  alone  has  power 
to  bear  it.  A  staff  is  given  to  thee  to  support  thy 
steps  ;  a  cordial,  to  revive  thy  heart.  The  fire  shall 
no  more  kindle  upon  thee,  nor  the  waters  overflow 
thee.  Sing,  pilgrim  !  for  the  golden  gates  of  the 
heavenly  city  are  open,  and  thy  Saviour  waits  to 
receive  thee. 

Sing,  Christian !  for  thou  hast  cause.  Thy  Lead- 
er and  thy  Lord  is  near  to  heal  thy  wounds,  to  dry 
thy  sorrows,  and  to  supply  all  thy  wants  out  of  the 
riches  of  his  grace.  Art  thou  weak?  he  will 
strengthen  thee ;  ignorant  ?  he  will  instruct  thee ; 
cast  down  ?  he  will  raise  thee  up  and  support  thee. 
A  crown  and  a  royal  robe  are  prepared  for  thee. 
Sing,  then,  in  time ;  for  thou  wilt  soon  sing  a  new 
song  in  eternity. 

Sing,  pardoned  sinner  !  Sing,  soldier  of  the  cross  1 


SING   FOR   JOY.  47 

Sing,  sojourner  of  the  desert !  Sing-,  weary  pilgrim ! 
and  sing,  Christian  !  for  you  have  cause  for  singing. 
"  O  come,  let  us  sing  unto  the  Lord :  let  us  make  a 
joyful  noise  to  the  rock  of  our  salvation.  Let  us 
come  before  his  presence  with  thanksgiving,  and 
make  a  joyful  noise  unto  him  with  psalms.  For 
the  Lord  is  a  great  God,  and  a  great  King  above  all 
gods,"  Psa.  xcv.  1 — 3. 


THE  HOLLY  BUSH. 

It  signifies  but  little  whether  we  take  for  our  sub- 
ject the  cedar  of  Lebanon,  or  the  hyssop  on  the 
house  wall,  so  that  we  turn  the  matter  to  a  good  ac- 
count. Listen,  then,  to  Old  Humphrey  on  the  holly 
bush. 

The  morning  was  frosty,  and  the  leafless  trees 
hung  with  icicles,  when  the  red  berries  of  a  holly 
bush  attracted  the  attention  of  an  idiot  boy.  He 
scrambled  through  the  prickly  barrier,  and  seized 
on  the  tempting  fruit ;  but  found  it  bitter  to  his  taste, 
and  surrounded  with  thorns.  His  hat  fell  from  his 
head,  his  hands  tingled  with  pain,  his  clothes  were 
torn,  and  his  face  was  covered  with  scratches. 

And  how  many  a  misguided  wretch,  in  the  pur- 


48  THE   HOLLY   BUSH. 

suit  of  pleasure,  has  been  robbed  of  his  patrimony, 
stung  by  his  conscience,  torn  by  his  false  friends, 
and  lacerated  by  the  unkindness  of  the  world ! 
The  man  of  the  world  is  an  idiot  boy,  and  worldly 
pleasure  at  best  but  a  holly  bush. 

The  idiot  boy  had  forgotten  his  disappointment, 
when  the  sky  was  suddenly  obscured,  and  a  mo- 
mentary storm  descended  on  his  head.  Instead  of 
enduring  the  temporary  inconvenience,  he  thought- 
lessly increased  his  misfortunes  by  taking  shelter  in 
the  holly  bush. 

How  parallel  with  the  rashness  of  thoughtless 
humanity  !  When  visited  with  the  sudden  blast  of 
calamity  or  misfortune,  hasty  and  petulant  under  our 
afflictions,  though  wounded  by  the  world  a  thousand 
and  a  thousand  times,  we  yet  run  to  that  world  for 
comfort  and  security  !  Why,  we  might  as  well  take 
shelter  in  a  holly  bush. 

Mark  how  quarrelsome  this  bush  appears :  ever 
alive  to  the  slightest  insult,  it  pardons  no  fault,  it  for- 
gives no  injury,  but  immediately  punishes  the  Avilful 
or  inadvertent  offender.  Ah,  my  friends!  in  this 
sharpness  of  disposition,  this  quickness  to  revenge 
our  supposed  grievances,  we  all  too  much  resemble 
the  holly  bush. 

But  let  us  take  a  nearer  view  of  the  holly  bush. 
What  a  rattling  it  makes  when  disturbed  by  the 
winds !  How  rudely  the  boughs  rustle  against 
their  brother  branches,  and  how  sharply  are  the 
leaves  of  the  same  spray  pointed  against  each  other  I 


THE   HOLLY   BUSH.  49 

I  could  think  of  the  opposing-  interests  of  the 
world — its  wars,  its  rumours,  its  commotions  ;  na- 
tion set  against  nation,  and  kingdom  against  king- 
dom;  the^party  spirit  of  towns,  the  scandal  of  vil- 
lages, and  the  feuds  of  private  life  ;  frequently 
branches  of  the  same  family  at  variance  with  each 
other.  I  could  think  of  these  things,  I  say,  until  I 
regarded  the  whole  world  as  a  holly  bush. 

And  what  are  its  inhabitants?  Evergreens  in 
appearance,  glossy  in  their  expression,  soft  and  silky 
in  their  professions ;  but,  desire  their  golden  fruit, 
stand  in  need  of  their  assistance,  run  to  them  for  pro- 
tection, lean  on  them  for  support,  and  you  will  con- 
fess with  bitterness,  that  man,  when  trusted  in,  is  no 
better  than  a  holly  bush. 

But  let  us  consider:  the  bitterest  herb  may  be 
grateful  to  the  smell,  the  most  brackish  water  prove 
medicinal ;  and  something  surely  may  be  said  in  fa- 
vour of  the  holly  bush. 

It  is  tenacious  of  its  rights,  and  jealous  of  its  liber- 
ties ;  but  it  never  attacks  the  liberties  of  others.  It 
is  ever  ready  to  defend  itself,  but  is  never  known  to 
be  the  aggressor.  Nations  may  here  learn  wisdom 
from  the  holly  bush. 

It  is  grateful  in  the  darkest  seasons ;  it  repines 
not  at  the  wintry  winds. 

Though  cold  its  place,  though  lone  its  lot 
It  buds,  it  bears,  it  murmurs  not, 

but  in  the  bleakest  storms  and  rudest  blasts  looks 
5 


50  THE   HOLLY   BUSH. 

cheerfully  towards  the  skies,  and  the  fruit  of  grati- 
tude at  the  darkest  season  is  abundant  on  its  branches. 
And  can  we  learn  nothing  from  the  holly  bush  ? 

Perhaps  the  little  spray  that  I  now  Jiold  in  my 
hand  was  among  the  topmost  branches  of  its  parent 
tree,  and  bore  its  blushing  honours  thick  upon  its 
aspiring  head,  defying  the  wintry  blast,  and  exulting 
in  security ;  but  it  was  untimely  severed  from  the 
place  where  it  grew,  it  was  cut  down  in  the  glory 
of  its  youth. 

And  we  may  endure  the  rude  ravage  of  time, 

And  exult,  though  the  loud  howling  tempest  may  roar ; 

And  we,  too,  may  fall  in  the  midst  of  our  prime, 
And  the  place  that  now  knows  us,  may  know  us  no  more. 


THE  CHRISTIAN'S  LEVER. 

"  If  ye  have  faith  as  a  grain  of  mustard  seed,  ye  shall  say 
unto  this  mountain,  Remove  hence  to  yonder  place;  and  it 
shall  remove ;  and  nothing  shall  be  impossible  unto  you," 
Matt.  xvii.  20. 

A  Christian  will  willingly  get  good  from  every 
thing,  and  a  lever  may  help  him  to  a  profitable  re- 
flection. 

The  lever  may  be  regarded  as  a  simple  instru- 


51 

merit ;  but  the  right  knowledge  of  its  power,  and  its 
proper  mode  of  application,  was  a  mighty  discovery. 
A  child,  by  means  of  the  lever,  will  do  the  work  of 
a  man.  Christian !  say  not  thou  art  come  to  a 
stand,  though  the  mountains  of  the  earth  tower  up  to 
U^  skies  in  thy  way.  Lay  hold  of  the  lever  that 
flPod  has  prepared  for  the  use  of  his  people,  the 
prayer  of  faith  :  this  is  the  Christian's  mighty  le- 
ver. The  right  use  of  this,  I  would  speak  with  hu- 
mility as  well  as  boldness,  will  both  bring  Christ 
down  to  thee,  and  raise  thee  up  to  Christ. 


THE  DIVER. 

It  is  a  pleasant  thing,  when  pilgrims  are  travel- 
ling the  same  road  together,  to  beguile  the  time  by 
the  relation  of  their  past  adventures.  A  Zion-bound 
pilgrim  lately  gave  me  an  interesting  history,  in 
nearly  the  following  words : 

"  Often,  in  the  days  of  my  youth,  have  I  gazed  on 
fragments  of  ruddy  coral,  goodly  shells  and  pearls, 
costly  stones  and  curious  sea-weed,  and  thought  of 
those  wrestlers  of  the  ocean,  who  dive  down  to  the 
caverns  of  the  deep  in  search  of  pearls. 

"  The  wild  wonders  of  the  ocean,  explored  by  the 


52  THE    DIVER. 

pearl-diver,  in  his  painful  struggles  to  win  the  trea« 
sures  of  the  raging  ocean,  have  been  at  such  seasons 
present  with  me.  The  broken  ship  and  half  buried 
anchor,  the  monsters  of  the  world  of  waters,  the 
sharp,  craggy  rock,  the  deep,  dark  cavern,  the  glit- 
tering spar,  the  sparkling  gem,  and  light-reflecti 
pearl.  '  They  that  go  down  to  the  sea  in  ships,  th' 
do  business  in  great  waters  ;  these  see  the  works  of 
the  Lord,  and  his  wonders  in  the  deep ;'  and  he  who 
pursues  the  wild  and  life-wasting  calling  of  a  diver, 
has  scenes  of  terror  and  beauty  presented  to  his  eyes, 
that  others  never  saw.  I  speak  of  these  things  feel- 
ingly, for  I  myself  have  been  a  diver  ;  but  do  not 
mistake  me.  Pearls  though  I  have,  costly  beyond 
all  price,  yet  they  were  not  brought  up  from  the 
mighty  deep :  listen,  and  you  shall  hear  my  rela- 
tion. 

"  For  twenty  years  of  my  life,  I  was  a  diver  in 
books,  and  brought  up  stores  of  knowledge  that  to 
me  were  prizable,  gems  of  thought  and  costly  pearls 
of  reflection :  but  all  this  time  I  was  as  much  a 
stranger  to  myself  as  I  was  to  the  bottom  of  the  sea. 
I  sought  my  own  pleasure,  I  delighted  to  hear  some 
new  thing,  and  to  see  some  new  sight ;  but  there 
was  one  sight  I  could  never  see,  and  that  was,  the 
sinfulness  of  my  own  heart. 

"  One  Sabbath  day,  as  I  sat  in  the  house  of  God, 
it  pleased  the  Holy  Spirit  to  take  of  the  things  spoken 
by  a  zealous  and  faithful  minister  of  the  gospel,  and 
apply  them  with  power  to  my  soul.     The  word  of 


THE   DIVER.  53 

the  Lord  was  l  quick,  and  powerful,  and  sharper 
than  any  two-edged  sword,  piercing  even  to  the  di- 
viding asunder  of  soul  and  spirit,  and  of  the  joints 
and  marrow,'  and  was  '  a  discerner  of  the  thoughts 
and  intents  of  the  heart.'  The  man  of  God  seemed 
to  smite  me  '  with  the  rod  of  his  mouth,'  and  to  dash 
me  in  pieces  '  like  a  potter's  vessel.'  That  sermon, 
for  the  first  time  in  my  life,  set  me  diving  into  my 
own  bosom.  I  descended,  not  altogether  unattended 
by  the  light  of  His  Spirit,  who  will  '  search  Jerusa- 
lem with  candles,'  into  the  deep  caverns  of  my  own 
evil  heart.  What  I  found  theie,  I  will  not  make 
known,  nor  attempt  to  describe  the  terrors  that  filled 
my  soul  at  the  discovery.  Blessed  be  the  God  of 
mercy !  in  my  distress  I  became  a  diver  in  the  Scrip- 
tures of  eternal  truth  ;  and,  though  for  a  long  time  I 
was  unsuccessful,  through  his  goodness  who  hath 
measured  the  waters  in  the  hollow  of  his  hand,  I  be- 
came possessed  of  the  pearl  of  repentance,  and  cried 
out,  '  God  be  merciful  to  me  a  sinner  !'  Luke  xviii. 
13. 

"  Though  I  then  possessed  a  gem  more  precious 
than  the  gold  of  Ophir,  in  the  pearl  of  repentance, 
yet  for  a  long  time  I  knew  not  the  value  of  it,  nor 
felt  any  comfort  in  its  possession,  until  one  day  a 
kind  friend,  by  his  encouraging  and  Christian  coun- 
sel, set  me  diving  again,  no  longer  into  the  troubled 
sea  of  my  own  guiltiness,  nor  the  dark,  frowning 
waves  of  God's  holy  law,  but  into  the  boundless 
ocean  of  the  everlasting  promises  of  the  gospel. 
5* 


54  THE   DIVER. 

Another  pearl  was  then  added  to  my  treasure,  and 
that  was  the  pearl  of  hope  ;  so  that  I  was  enabled  to 
rejoice  in  the  blessed  assurance  of  Him  who  spake 
as  never  man  spake :  '  Him  that  cometh  to  me  I  will 
in  no  wise  cast  out,'  John  vi.  37. 

"  The  time  came,  however,  when  I  left  off  to  '  do 
business  in  great  waters ;'  for  things  went  very- 
smooth  ly  and  well  with  me.  I  began  to  think, 
with  David,  that  the  Lord  had  made  my  mountain 
to  stand  so  fast,  that  I  should  '  never  be  moved.'  I 
began  to  be  less  careful,  and  then  was  less  prayerful, 
in  my  heavenly  walk.  This  carelessness  and  self- 
confidence  by  degrees  brought  in  great  backsliding 
of  heart,  and  barrenness  of  soul ;  and  where  it 
would  have  ended,  I  cannot  tell :  but  it  pleased  a 
faithful  God,  who  had  set  his  love  upon  me,  to  visit 
me  with  the  rod.  The  dark  clouds  of  his  provi- 
dence gathered  above  me,  and  a  heavy  storm  broke 
over  my  head.  One  dearer  far  to  me  than  my  own 
life  was  suddenly  snatched  away,  and  I  was  left  a 
lonely  pilgrim  on  the  earth.  Then,  indeed,  was  my 
soul  overwhelmed  within  me ;  and,  being  exceed- 
ingly tossed  in  the  tempest  of  affliction,  my  cry  was, 
'  All  thy  waves  and  thy  billows  are  gone  over  me!' 
Again  I  became  a  diver ;  and,  in  the  deep  waters 
of  adversity,  by  the  mercy  of  a  covenant  God,  who 
made  all  these  bitter  things  to  work  together  for  my 
eternal  good,  the  pearl  of  submission  was  added  to 
my  treasures.     '  The  Lord  gave,'  said  I,  l  and  the 


THE   DIVER.  55 

Lord  hath  taken  away ;  blessed  be  the  name  of  the 
Lord.' 

"  In  this  l  great  deep,'  I  saw  more  of  the  works 
of  the  Lord  and  his  wonders  than  I  had  ever  known 
before.  He  made  all  his  goodness  to  pass  before 
me,  and  showed  me  wherefore  he  contended  with 
me.  I  had  departed  from  him.  I  had  left  my 
{ first  love.'  I  had  joined  myself  unto  idols,  and 
mine  eyes  were  turned  earthward;  but  in  these 
deep  waters  the  Lord  lifted  them  up,  and  then  I  saw 
'  no  man,  save  Jesus  only.'  Two  other  pearls  were 
obtained  through  mercy — the  pearls  of  love,  and  of 
Christian  assurance.  Yes !  when  the  winds  and 
waves  were  stilled,  there  was  l  a  great  calm  ;'  and 
in  that  calm  my  soul  could  say  unto  the  Lord,  not 
only,  '  Whom  have  I  in  heaven  but  thee  V  but 
also,  '  There  is  none  upon  earth  that  I  desire  beside 
thee.'  These,  then,  are  some  of  the  pearls  which, 
through  mercy,  I  possess. 

u  I  must  now  say  a  few  words  about  one  pearl 
which  I  have  kept  back  till  the  last,  because,  in 
comparison  thereof,  all  the  pearls  I  have  spoken  of 
are  worthless  as  the  small  dust  of  the  earth ;  and, 
as  my  Lord  knows  how  apt  I  am  by  my  wayward- 
ness to  lose  or  injure  the  pearls  and  ornaments  in 
my  possession,  he  has  placed  this  one  Pearl  of 
pearls,  which  is  the  sum  and  substance  of  all  my 
wealth,  in  so  secure  and  exalted  a  place,  that  it  is- 
utterly  impossible  for  the  bitterest  of  my  enemies, 
either  on  earth  or  in  hell,  to  touch  it.     God  has 


56  THE    DIVER. 

placed  this  inestimable  treasure  -  far  above  all  prin- 
cipality, and  power,  and  might,  and  dominion,'  even 
in  heaven  itself,  at  the  right  hand  of  his  eternal 
throne.  Yes,  this  precious  l  Pearl  of  great  price ' 
is  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  my  sacrifice  and  my  Sav- 
iour, the  eternal  and  everlasting  God,  who,  by  the 
offering  up  of  himself,  has  purchased  for  me  an  in- 
heritance in  the  kingdom  of  his  Father,  where  I 
shall  be  with  him  for  ever  and  ever." 


THE  SAVINGS'  BANK. 

It  may  seem  hard  to  a  servant  when  she  gets  her 
wages  paid  her,  to  go  directly  and  put  it  into  the  sav- 
ings' bank.  It  may  seem  hard  to  her  at  the  time  ; 
and,  if  she  be  of  an  impatient  disposition,  she  may 
think  to  herself,  "  Is  it  not  foolish  in  me  to  go  and 
pay  away  my  money  as  fast  as  I  can  earn  it? 
While  other  people  are  sporting  their  new  ribands 
and  laces,  here  I  go  and  put  my  money  out  of  sight, 
in  this  great  house,  and  for  a  long  time  hear  no 
more  of  it."  But  by  and  by  when  a  time  of  need 
comes,  a  time  of  sickness  or  misfortune,  she  goes 
again  to  the  savings'  bank*,  and  finds  it  a  very  great 


57 

comfort  to  be  able  to  draw  out  the  means  of  helping 
her  through  her  necessity. 

The  impatient  Christian,  or  even  the  patient  but 
faint-hearted  Christian,  is  often  inclined  to  cry  out 
that  he  hears  nothing  of  his  prayers.  "  While  the 
worldly-minded  around  me  are  at  ease,"  says  he, 
"  my  prayers  are  mingled  with  my  tears  day  and 
night  at  the  footstool  of  my  God  j  but  I  hear  no 
more  of  them."  Alas  !  he  is  for  a  moment  tempted 
to  say,  "  I  have  cleansed  my  heart  in  vain ;"  but, 
by  and  by,  comes  a  time  of  great  trial,  a  heavy  af- 
fliction, a  sore  bereavement,  a  painful  sickness,  or 
he  is  brought  down  to  the  gates  of  death  ;  and  then 
the  Lord  is  a  wall  of  fire  round  about  him,  fills  his 
heart  with  heavenly  peace  and  resignation,  and 
gives  him  "  a  happy  issue  "  out  of  all  his  afflictions. 
Then  he  finds  that  his  heavenly  Treasurer  has  not 
overlooked  the  faintest  sigh  that  escaped  his  breast, 
but  was  only  reserving  the  profits  of  it  until  the 
most  suitable  time  of  need. 


THE  BLACKSMITH. 

"Behold,  I  have  created  the  smith  that  bloweth  the  coals  in 
the  fire,  and  that  bringeth  forth  an  instrument  for  his 
work,"  Isa.  liv.  16. 

I  was  once  overtaken  by  a  wintry  storm,  and  was 
fain  to  take  refuge  in  the  shop  of  a  blacksmith. 
Fancy  to  yourself  Old  Humphrey  standing-  upon 
the  high  hearth,  with  his  head  part  of  the  way  up 
the  broad  chimney,  the  bright  flame  shining  full  on 
his  face  I 

What  an  animating  scene  is  a  blacksmith's  shop ! 
all  noise,  blaze,  and  bustle !  The  blacksmith  takes 
a  piece  of  iron,  burns  it  in  the  fire  until  it  is  suffi- 
ciently malleable ;  then  puts  it  upon  the  anvil,  and 
beats  it  about,  until  it  is  formed  into  the  shape  for 
which  it  is  intended :  perhaps  a  horse-shoe,  a  hoe, 
or  a  pick-axe,  which  is  brought  forth  from  the 
blacksmith's  shop  ready  for  service. 

The  people  of  God  are  sometimes  sorely  tried 
by  their  worldly-minded  neighbours,  who  are  set 
against  them.  It  is  natural  to  feel  angry  with  those 
who  thus  afflict  and  oppose  them;  but  Christians 
should  check  these  feelings,  with  such  a  thought  as 
the  following :  "  How  do  I  know  what  service  my 
heavenly  Father  has  designed  me  to  do  for  him  ? 
These  very  people,   though    I   count    them  such 


THE   BLACKSMITH.     .  59 

troubles  to  my  soul,  may  be  smiths  blowing-  the 
coals  in  the  fire.  They  may  be  modelling  me  un- 
der his  superintendence,  and  bringing  me  forth  an 
instrument  prepared  for  his  use." 


THE  BOG 
ON  THE  SCOTTISH  BORDER. 

If  you  have  never  suffered  from  high-mindedness, 
your  experience  has  been  very  different  from  that 
of  Old  Humphrey.  It  is  but  a  comical  figure  that 
a  man  cuts  in  crossing  a  moor  on  horseback,  on 
the  Scottish  border,  if  he  happens  to  be  confident  in 
his  own  judgment  and  unaccustomed  to  moorland 
travel.  Too  proud  to  drag  along  at  the  heels  of  his 
mounted  guide,  he  bravely  leaps  on  to  a  patch  of 
dark  brown  heather,  which  he  takes  to  be  hard  and 
dry,  when  his  horse  sinks  into  the  treacherous  bog 
up  to  the  girths,  and  he  himself  is  liberally  bespat- 
tered with  mud.  Well !  there  is  no  help  for  it ; 
and,  if  he  has  obtained  nothing  else  that  is  likely  to 
be  of  service  to  him,  he  has,  at  least,  gained  the 
benefit  of  experience. 

Again  proceeding  onwards,  carefully  avoiding  ev- 
ery dark  brown  patch  within  his  view,  he  makes  for 


60  THE   BOG   ON   THE    SCOTTISH   BORDER. 

a  strip  of  bright  green  herbage,  near  the  bottom  of 
the  hill,  nothing  doubting  that  there  he  shall  find 
firm  footing.  Alas !  he  is  now  worse  off  than  be- 
fore. His  steed  is  knee  deep  in  a  plashy  moss  oc- 
casioned by  a  spring  from  the  mountain  side,  and 
he  himself  is  thrown  over  his  head  into  the  wet 
grass  and  yielding  mire.  Crawling  through  the 
mud  and  water,  and  thoroughly  cured  of  his  self- 
confidence,  he  submits  his  own  judgment  to  that  of 
another.  Once  more  mounting  his  affrighted  steed, 
he  follows  his  guide  with  all  the  humility  of  a 
beaten  spaniel,  and  arrives  at  his  journey's  end 
without  any  additional  calamity. 

Is  there  not  much  in  this  description  akin  to  the 
boggling  and  floundering  of  a  backsliding  Chris- 
tian, when  forsaking  the  guidance  of  God,  and  fol- 
lowing for  a  season  the  devices  and  desires  of  his 
own  heart  %  Oh !  what  muddy  bogs,  what  miry 
sloughs,  does  he  get  into,  and  what  a  spectacle  to 
men  and  angels  does  he  present !  But  no  sooner  is 
his  heart  humbled,  no  sooner  does  he  patiently  sub- 
mit humbly  to  the  guidance  of  his  heavenly  Father, 
then  he  gets  again  into  the  right  road.  "  I  waited 
patiently  for  the  Lord ;  and  he  inclined  unto  me, 
and  heard  my  cry.  He  brought  me  up  also  out  of 
an  horrible  pit,  out  of  the  miry  clay,  and  set  my  feet 
upon  a  rock,  and  established  my  goings.  And  he 
hath  put  a  new  song  in  my  mouth,  even  praise  unto 
our  God :  many  shall  see  it,  and  fear,  and  shall 
trust  in  the  Lord,"  Psa.  xl.  1 — 3.     He  no  longer 


THE  BOG  ON  THE  SCOTTISH  BORDER.      61 

wishes  to  take  the  lead,  but  humbly  and  gratefully 
cries  out  to  his  Leader  and  Lord,  "  Thou  shalt  be 
my  rock  and  my  refuge ;"  u  Thou  shalt  guide  me 
with  thy  counsel,  and  afterwards  receive  me  to 
glory,"  Psa.  lxxiii.  24. 


TREES  AND  PLANTS. 

What  an  interesting  page  in  the  volume  of  crea- 
tion is  that  of  plants,  and  shrubs,  and  trees !  I  loved 
to  look  on  it  in  my  childhood,  and  I  delight  to  linger 
on  it  in  my  age. 

Of  all  plants  that  nourish  in  the  wild  garden  of 
the  woods  and  commons,  you  will  surely  not  find 
one  more  curious  and  beautiful  than  the  fern.  But 
it  is  not  its  curiosity  nor  its  beauty  of  which  I  am 
now  going  to  speak,  but  a  characteristic  it  possesses 
in  common  with  many,  indeed  with  most  other  plants 
and  trees,  and  one  that  possibly  you  may  not  have 
observed.  When  you  next  meet  with  a  fine  fern 
plant  in  your  country  rambles,  take  out  your  pencil 
and  make  a  rough  sketch  of  the  shape  and  character 
of  the  plant  as  it  grows. 

Break  then  one  branch  from  off  the  stem,  and  ob- 
serve how  precisely  it  will  bear  the  leading  features 
6 


62  TREES   AND   PLANTS. 

of  the  whole  plant :  you  hold  in  your  hand  a  com- 
plete fern,  but  of  smaller  dimensions.  Strip  off  then 
one  feathery  spray  from  the  branch,  and  there  is  still 
a  complete  bush,  bearing  all  the  marks  of  the  parent 
tree.  Pull  off  the  spray  one  little  sprout  of  green, 
and  still  you  have  a  fern  bush  in  miniature. 

The  peculiarity  I  have  mentioned  may  be  traced, 
though  not  marked  quite  so  strongly,  in  the  holly 
tree,  the  fir  tree,  the  sycamore,  and  also  in  large 
trees  ;  the  branch,  the  spray,  and  the  leaf  of  the  oak, 
the  elm,  the  poplar,  and  the  willow,  all  bear  the 
image  and  character  of  the  whole  tree. 

Christian,  canst  thou  not  apply  this  in  some  way 
or  other  to  thy  own  advantage  ?  Is  it  not  written, 
that  He  whom  thou  servest  is  the  Head,  and  his 
people  are  the  members  ?  That  he  is  the  true  Vine, 
and  his  followers  are  the  branches  ?  Pursue  for  a 
moment  this  thought.     • 

Perhaps  it  may  be  found  that  the  church  of  Christ, 
the  whole  family  of  God,  bears  Christ's  image,  not 
as  a  body  only,  but  as  individuals ;  and  that,  as  a 
single  leaf  bears  the  likeness  of  the  branch,  and  the 
branch  the  likeness  of  the  tree,  so  a  single  member 
of  the  church  bears  the  image  of  the  whole  church, 
and  the  whole  church  the  image  of  Christ.  Thus, 
then,  Christ  is  the  Tree,  the  church  is  a  branch  ;  a 
Christian  congregation  or  family  is  a  spray,  and  a 
disciple  of  Jesus  is  a  leaf. 


WHY  IS  IT? 

"  Why  is  it  ?"  said  a  friend  of  mine  ;  "  How 
comes  it  to  pass  that  the  people  who  love  this  world 
leave  the  people  who  love  God  so  much  to  them- 
selves ?  God's  children  are  lovely  in  their  conduct, 
and  full  of  kindness  even  to  their  enemies.  Why, 
then,  does  the  world  look  shy  at  them  ?" 

"  There  are  many  reasons,"  replied  I;  "for  'the 
friendship  of  the  world  is  enmity  with  God  ;'  James 
iv.  4 ;  hut  I  will  give  you  one  :  listen  to  me,  and  I 
will  tell  you  a  story.  Some  time  ago,  I  spent  a  few 
days  with  a  young  friend,  a  relation  of  mine,  who 
was  about  to  put  on  her  bridal  robe.  Now,  I  loved 
her ;  for  she  was  a  timid^gentle,  and  amiable  maid- 
en :  but,  for  the  first  time  in  my  life,  I  was  tired  of 
her  company.  She  told  me  all  about  her  intended 
marriage,  and  there  was  no  end  to  the  subject. 
There  was  one  thought  in  her  head,  one  name  on 
her  lip,  and  one  love  in  her  heart.  How  they  met, 
when  they  parted,  and  where  they  met  again,  with 
the  ups  and  the  .downs,  the  doubts  and  the  fears,  the 
sunshine  and  the  shade,  which  they  had  passed 
through — all  was  told  me.  I  can  bear  much  ;  but 
this  I  could  not  bear,  for  there  was  no  end  to  it ! 

"  To  change  the  subject,  I  spoke  of  God's  glo- 
rious creation,  of  gay  flowers  and  of  green  leaves, 


64  WHY   IS   IT? 

of  sun,  moon,  and  stars  ;  but  it  was  useless :  there 
was  not  a  flower  that  looked  to  the  fair  face  of 
heaven,  not  a  leaf  that  fluttered  in  the  wind,  but  it 
reminded  her  of  something  of  that  one  never-ending- 
subject.  The  sun,  moon,  and  stars  seemed  only  re- 
membered by  her  as  having  lighted  up  the  skies 
under  which  she  had  walked  with  her  lover. 
There  was,  as  I  said  before,  one  thought  in  her 
head,  one  name  on  her  lip,  and  one  love  in  her 
heart.  I  grew  weary  of  my  amiable  relative,  and  I 
left  her  to  herself. 

"  Now,  lovely  as  God's  children  are,  kind,  good, 
and  gentle  as  they  are,  it  is  not  much  to  be  wonder- 
ed at  that  they  should  be  deserted  ;  for  they  are  al- 
most always  dwelling  on  one  subject.  The  love  of 
God  is  their  continual  theme ;  when  once  it  is  be- 
gun, there  is  no  end  to  it :  they  have  one  thought  in 
their  heads,  one  name  on  4freir  lips,  and  one  love  in 
their  hearts. 

The  rolling  orbs  proclaim  in  heaven 

His  goodness  every  hour, 
And  glowing  proofs  of  love  are  given 

In  every  leaf  and  flower. 

Worldly  people  have  so  many  subjects  to  occupy 
their  attention,  that  they  cannot  be  confined  so  much 
to  this  one,  and  therefore  it  is  that  they  leave  God's 
people  to  themselves." 


A  PRECIOUS  PROMISE. 

Though  you  may  not,  like  me,  have  grey  hairs 
on  your  head,  yet  you  may  have  made  the  remark, 
that  there  are  many  of  the  comforts  of  this  life  suited 
only  to  particular  seasons  and  circumstances  ;  some 
for  summer,  and  some  for  winter  ;  some  for  day, 
and  some  for  night ;  some  for  health,  and  some  for 
sickness  ;  but  the  precious  portions  and  promises  of 
the  Book  of  Truth  seem  calculated  for  all  times,  and 
for  all  situations  in  which  we  can  be  placed. 

Let  us  take  up  one  of  them.  "  There  remaineth 
therefore  a  rest  to  the  people  of  God,"  Heb.  iv.  9. 
What  a  blessed  portion  is  this  for  the  soul  that  hun- 
gers after  righteousness  !  What  a  blessed  expecta- 
tion for  the  weary  pilgrim  who  is  toil-worn,  and 
faint  with  his  journey  !  What  a  blessed  haven  for 
the  tempest-tost  Christian  mariner !  What  a  sus- 
taining staff!  What  a  firm  rock  to  tread  on! 
What  a  blessed  encouragement  to  the  discouraged, 
to  be  assured,  notwithstanding  every  fear  and  every 
disappointment,  that  "  there  remaineth  a  rest  to  the 
people  of  God." 

Are  you  one  of  these  people  ?  Have  you  the 
mark  in  the  forehead  ?  the  token  in  the  heart  %  the 
witness  in  the  spirit?  Rejoice,  then,  with  exceed- 
ing great  joy.  You  may  have  been  buffeted,  and 
6* 


66  A  PRECIOUS   PROMISE. 

you  may  be  buffeted  again.  Weary  you  may  be  of 
worldly  toil  and  trouble,  and  weary  you  will  be ; 
but  what  of  that  ?  The  hand  of  the  Eternal  has 
graven  the  sentence,  "  There  remaineth  therefore  a 
rest  to  the  people  of  God  ;"  and  that  rest  shall  as- 
suredly be  yours. 

This  is  a  precious  portion  and  promise  for  the 
beginning  or  the  latter  end  of  the  year.  It  will  do 
for  the  spring,  the  summer,  the  autumn,  and  the 
winter.  It  is  an  elixir  of  life,  that  will  keep  without 
injury  in  all  climates,  and  may  be  taken  at  night  or 
morning  with  equal  advantage  :  nay,  it  may  be  a 
comforting  cordial  to  you  every  hour  of  the  day, 
and  every  minute  of  the  hour.  Let  come  what  will, 
riches  or  poverty,  health  or  sickness,  joy  or  sorrow, 
life  or  death,  the  promise  still  holds  good,  "  There 
remaineth  therefore  a  rest  to  the  people  of  God." 


THE  CRAZY  MAN  AND  HIS  WATCH. 

A  poor  crazy  fellow,  one  day,  on  finding  his 
watch  half  an  hour  too  slow,  insisted  upon  it  that 
the  sun  had  gone  down  that  evening  half  an  hour 
sooner  than  it  ought  to  have  done  ;  when  a  sober- 
minded  neighbour  of  his  assured  him,  that,  be  that 


THE    CRAZY   MAN   AND   HIS   WATCH.  67 

as  it  might,  he  would  find  it  wiser  and  easier  to 
regulate  his  watch  by  the  sun,  than  to  attempt  to  or- 
der the  sun's  revolutions  by  his  watch. 

How  many  conceited  Socialists,  how  many  vain- 
glorious Deists,  and  how  many  proud  Atheists,  are 
acting  as  this  poor  crazy  man  acted  !  Poor,  pur- 
blind, mortal  creatures  would  do  well  to  remember, 
when  cavilling  at  the  word  and  works  of  Almighty 
God,  that  it  is  much  more  likely,  than  the  contrary, 
that  Wisdom,  Power,  and  Goodness,  should  be 
right,  and  that  ignorance,  weakness,  infirmity,  and 
folly,  should  be  wrong. 


THE  BANIAN  TREE. 

What  a  mercy  it  is,  when  our  faith  and  love 
towards  the  Redeemer  are  strong  enough  to  enable 
us,  like  the  bee  that  gathers  honey  alike  from  the 
rose  and  the  thistle,  to  gather  instruction,  comfort, 
and  encouragement,  from  every  thing  around  us ! 
Then  it  is  that  we  can  rejoice  "  with  joy  unspeaka- 
ble," in  the  midst  of  manifold  blessings  ;  then  it  is 
that 

Meekly,  humbly,  bending  low, 
Amid  our  griefs  we  kiss  the  rod  ; 


68  THE   BANIAN   TREE. 

And  find,  in  every  earthly  woe, 
The  mingled  mercies  of  our  God. 

On  reading,  the  other  day,  an  account  of  the 
Banian  tree,  I  was  struck  with  the  comparison 
which  might  be  made  between  this  tree,  and  the 
humble  and  sincere  Christian  who  lives  a  life  of 
faith  in  the  Son  of  God,  and  seeks  not  only  to  know, 
but  to  do  his  will. 

The  Banian  tree  is  found  in  more  beauty  and 
perfection  in  the  scorching  clime  of  India,  than  in 
other  places.  It  is  sometimes  called  the  Burr  tree, 
or  Indian  fig,  and  is  different  from  any  tree  that 
grows  in  England.  Each  tree  is  in  itself  a  grove, 
and  sometimes  spreads  to  an  amazing  extent ;  hardly 
ever  decaying  while  the  earth  affords  it  sustenance. 
Every  branch  from  the  main  body  throws  out  its 
own  roots  several  yards  from  the  ground :  these,  at 
first,  are  thin,  slender  fibres  ;  but  they  grow  thicker 
until  they  reach  the  surface,  and  then,  striking  into 
the  ground,  increase  to  large  trunks,  and  become 
parent  trees,  shooting  out  new  branches,  which  pro- 
duce roots,  and  trees,  in  the  same  manner  as  before : 
thus  the  tree  grows,  every  branch  producing  a  suc- 
cession of  stems,  until  the  whole  assumes  the  ap- 
pearance of  a  grove. 

A  Banian  tree,  with  its  many  trunks,  forms  the 
most  beautiful  bowers  and  cool  recesses  that  can  be 
imagined ;  its  leaves  are  large,  soft,  and  of  a  lively 
green ;  its  fruit  is  a  small  fig,  which,  when  quite 


THE    BANIAN    TREE.  69 

ripe,  is  of  a  bright  scarlet  colour.  It  affords  suste- 
nance or  shelter  to  the  monkey,  the  squirrel,  and 
the  peacock ;  as  well  as  to  various  kinds  of  small 
birds. 

We  can  hardly  form  a  proper  notion  of  the  extent 
of  these  trees.  On  the  banks  of  the  river  Merbud- 
da,  a  Banian  tree  grows,  which,  if  measured  round 
its  principal  stems,  is  nearly  two  thousand  feet  in 
circumference.  It  has  three  hundred  and  fifty  large 
trunks,  and  more  than  three  thousand  smaller  ones  ; 
and  it  is  said  that  seven  thousand  persons  may  find 
ample  room  to  repose  under  its  shade.  Green  wood- 
pigeons,  doves,  peacocks,  monkeys,  squirrels,  and 
large  bats,  find  a  shelter  among  its  branches. 

The  Banian  tree  flourishes  and  throws  out  its 
green  leaves  beneath  the  radiance  of  the  sun ;  the 
Christian  throws  out  his  graces  beneath  the  beams 
of  the  Sun  of  Righteousness.  The  Banian  tree 
spreads  wide  its  branches,  which,  taking  root,  pro- 
duce other  trees;  the  Christian  extends  his  influ- 
ence, his  faith,  his  love,  and  his  hopes,  which, 
through  mercy,  taking  root  in  other  hearts,  influ- 
ence them  to  grow  in  grace,  and  to  become  Chris- 
tians like  himself.  The  Banian  tree  becomes  a 
grove  of  goodly  trees,  pleasant  to  gaze  upon :  the 
Christian,  blessed  from  above,  spreads  abroad  the 
gospel  of  the  Redeemer,  and  thus  multiplies  the 
followers  of  Christ,  till  he  forms  a  band,  a  goodly 
company,  of  faithful  worshippers.  The  Banian 
tree  brings  forth  fruit,  beautiful  to  the  eye :  and  the 


70  THE   BANIAN   TREE. 

Christian  bears  fruit  also,  far  more  lovely  than  that 
of  the  trees  of  the  field.  The  Banian  tree  is  a 
shelter  to  the  creatures  that  seek  its  protection :  the 
Christian  man,  too,  by  his  love  unfeigned,  his  zeal, 
his  fidelity,  his  prayers,  and  his  praises,  is  a  shelter 
and  protection  to  all  whom  he  can  assist  and  serve. 
But  while  we  thus  draw  the  resemblance  between 
the  Christian  and  the  Banian  tree,  let  us  bear  in 
mind,  in  reference  to  ourselves,  that  "  a  good  tree 
cannot  bring  forth  evil  fruit,  neither  can  a  corrupt 
tree  bring  forth  good  fruit  •"  and  also,  that  "  every 
tree  that  bringeth  not  forth  good  fruit  is  hewn  down, 
and  cast  into  the  fire,"  Matt.  vii.  18,  19. 


ON  WHAT  ARE  YOU  DEPENDING? 

Strange  as  it  may  appear,  it  is  a  truth,  that 
Christians  are  often  helped  by  their  hinderances, 
and  made  rich  by  their  losses  ;  and  I  may  add  also, 
that  by  their  falls  they  learn  to  stand  on  their  feet 
the  more  steadily. 

An  hour  ago,  I  walked  abroad  with  a  youthful 
companion ;  the  sun  had  sometime  set,  and  the 
landscape,  as  the  poet  says,  had  "  faded,"  and  a 


ON   WHAT   AE.E   YOU   DEPENDING?  71 

"  solemn  stillness  "  pervaded  the  air.  Some  will 
have  it,  that  youth  and  age  are  not  fit  associates ; 
hut  often  do  I  find  just  the  reverse  of  this  to  he  the 
truth.  Well,  we  seated  ourselves  on  a  rail  over- 
hanging a  dij  ditch  of  some  depth.  "Have  a 
care,"  said  1 ;  "  for  you  know  age  is  cautious  and 
oftentimes  mistrustful.  Have  a  care,"  said  I ;  "  for 
the  rail  on  which  we  are  seated  is  hut  a  crazy  one." 

"  Crazy!"  cried  out  young  confidence,  "  Crazy! 
why,  it  is  as  firm  as  a  rock  !"  "  Ay,"  thought  I, 
"  the  rocks  on  which  some  people  depend  are  as 
uncertain  as  the  shifting  sand."  In  five  or  ten  min- 
utes after,  (for,  notwithstanding  my  sage  reflection, 
I  had  kept  my  seat,)  the  rail  gave  way  under  us 
with  a  crash,  and  we  both  fell  backwards  at  full 
length  into  the  ditch.  My  companion  fell  lightly, 
and  was  not  injured ;  but,  as  for  me,  I  did  not  es- 
cape without  bruises :  but  nevertheless,  after  slowly 
gathering  myself  up  again,  I  walked  away  much 
benefited  by  my  mishap;  for  it  suggested  to  my 
mind  this  very  profitable  inquiry,  "  On  what  are 
you  depending?" 

Now,  there  are  many,  who,  though  too  worldly- 
wise  to  trust  the  weight  of  their  bodies  on  a  crazy 
rail,  are  thoughtless  and  reckless  enough  to  trust 
the  welfare  of  their  souls  on  a  foundation  equally 
precarious.     On  what,  then,  are  you  depending  ? 

It  is  quite  bad  enough  when  our  earthly  hopes 
break  down  with  us ;  but  it  is  a  thousand  times 
worse  when  the  same  thing  happens  to  our  heavenly 


72  ON   WHAT   ARE   YOU   DEPENDING? 

expectations.  If  you  are  content  with  the  beggarly 
elements  of  time,  your  foundation  does  not  so  much 
matter  ;  but,  if  you  have  set  your  heart  on  the  glo- 
rious things  of  eternity,  bear  in  mind  that  "  other 
foundation  can  no  man  lay  than  that  is  laid,  which 
is  Jesus  Christ,"   1  Cor.  iii.  11. 


THE  BARRACK  YARD. 

As  I  passed  by  the  barrack  yard  the  other  day,  I 
heard  a  firing  and  thundering ;  so  I  stepped  in  to 
see  what  it  was  all  about.  The  horses  were  drawn 
up  in  two  files  on  each  side  the  yard,  and  the  sol- 
diers were  firing  before  their  faces.  This  was  to 
accustom  them  to  the  flash  and  the  report  of  the 
musketry,  that  they  might  be  steady  in  the  battle- 
field. There  was  a  great  deal  of  snorting,  and 
prancing,  and  trampling  among  some  of  them,  as 
they  tossed  up  their  noses,  and  flung  about  their 
long  manes  in  the  air.  But  others,  who  were  more 
experienced,  stood  it  out  bravely,  only  showing  their 
mettle  by  their  glaring  eye-balls. 

Before  God's  children  are  accustomed  to  trouble, 
before  they  are  •  disciplined  in  the  school  of  trial, 
they  are  apt  to  start    aside  on  trivial  occasions. 


THE    BARRACK    YARD.  73 

When  a  blast  of  affliction  blows  up  from  the  north, 
when  dark  clouds  of  adversity  gather  together  in 
the  west,  when  there  is  a  whirlwind  of  perplexities 
in  the  south,  and  a  sharp  storm  of  tribulation  comes 
down  from  the  east,  they  are  almost  driven  to  their 
wit's  end,  little  thinking  that  their  heavenly  Father 
is  thus  fitting  them  to  bear  the  heat  and  burden  of 
the  day,  that  they  may  fight  the  good  fight  of  faith, 
and  lay  hold  on  eternal  life.  Poor  Job,  when  his 
troubles  first  came  upon  him,  rent  his  mantle  and 
shaved  his  head:  he  grieved  in  silence  for  seven 
days  and  seven  nights,  and  then  opened  his  mouth, 
and  cursed  his  day.  But  how  was  it  with  him  at 
the  last  %  Why,  he  stood  steady  in  the  midst  of  his 
afflictions,  as  brave  as  a  lion,  and  as  meek  as  a 
iamb.  "  Though  he  slay  me,"  said  he,  "  yet  will  I 
trust  in  him,"  Job  xiii.  15. 


THE  PORTRAITS. 

Dm  you  ever  hear  the  story  of  the  two  portraits ! 
Come !  I  will  tell  it  to  you ;  for  it  is  a  striking 
one. 

A  painter  who  wanted  a  picture  of  innocence, 
drew  the  likeness  of  a  child  at  prayer.  The  little 
7 


74  THE   POE.TR AITS. 

suppliant  was  kneeling  by  the  side  of  his  mother, 
who  regarded  him  with  tenderness.  The  palms  of 
his  lifted  hands  were  reverently  pressed  together ; 
his  rosy  cheek  spoke  of  health,  and  his  mild  blue 
eye  was  upturned  with  an  expression  of  devotion 
and  peace.  This  portrait  of  young  Rupert  was 
highly  prized  by  the  painter  ;  for  he  had  bestowed 
on  it  great  pains  :  he  hung  it  up  in  his  study,  and 
called  it  Innocence. 

Years  rolled  along,  and  the  painter  became  an 
aged  man ;  but  the  picture  of  Innocence  still  adorn- 
ed his  study  walls.  Often  had  he  thought  of  paint- 
ing a  contrast  to  his  favourite  portrait ;  but  opportu- 
nity had  not  served.  He  had  sought  for  a  striking 
model  of  guilt,  but  had  failed  to  find  one.  At  last, 
he  effected  his  purpose  by  paying  a  visit  to  a  neigh- 
bouring gaol. 

On  the  damp  floor  of  his  dungeon,  lay  a  wretched 
culprit,  named  Randal,  heavily  ironed.  Wasted 
was  his  body,  worn  was  his  cheek,  and  anguish  un- 
utterable was  seen  in  his  hollow  eye  ;  but  this  was 
not  all:  vice  was  visible  in  his  face,  guilt  was 
branded,  as  with  a  hot  iron,  on  his  brow,  and  horrid 
imprecations  burst  from  his  blaspheming  tongue. 
The  painter  executed  his  task  to  the  life,  and  bore 
away  the  successful  effort  of  his  pencil.  The  por- 
traits of  young  Rupert  and  old  Randal  were  hung} 
side  by  side,  in  his  study  j  the  one  representing  In- 
nocence, the  other  Guilt. 

But  who  was  young  Rupert  who  kneeled  in 


THE   PORTRAITS.  75 

prayer  by  the  side  of  his  mother  in  meek  devotion  ? 
And  who  was  old  Randal,  who  lay  manacled  on 
the  dungeon  floor,  cursing  and  blaspheming ! 
Alas  !  the  two  were  one  !  Young  Rupert  and  old 
Randal  were  the  same.  Led  by  bad  companions 
into  the  paths  of  sin,  no  wonder  that  young  Rupert 
found  bitterness  and  sorrow.  That  brow  which  in 
childhood  was  bright  with  peace  and  joy,  in  years 
became  darkened  by  guilt  and  shame  ;  and  that 
heart  which  once  was  the  abode  of  happiness,  after- 
wards became  the  habitation  of  anguish.  Fathers, 
tell  the  tale  to  your  children  !  Mothers,  whisper  it 
in  the  ears  of  your  lisping  little  ones,  that  they  may 
know  betimes  the  exceeding  sinfulness  of  sin,  and 
the  exceeding  deceitfulness  of  the  human  heart. 
Well  may  youth  and  age  walk  humbly  before  God, 
putting  up  the  prayer,  "  Keep  me  as  the  apple  of 
the  eye,  hide  me  under  the  shadow  of  thy  wings," 
Psa.  xvii.  8. 


THE  GERANIUM  TREE. 

"  For  there  is  hope  of  a  tree,  if  it  be  cut  down,  that  it  will' 
sprout  again,  and  that  the  tender  branch  thereof  will  not 
cease." — Job  xiv.  7. 

Let  an  old  man  go  back  to  the  days  that  have 
long  passed  by.  My  grandmother  had  an  old  fa- 
vourite geranium  tree,  which  was  cut  down  nearly 
to  the  roots,  and  had  looked  very  sickly  a  long  time. 
One  Sunday  morning,  as  she  sat  at  her  window,  her 
eye  fell  anxiously  upon  the  geranium  tree,  which 
we  had  not  noticed  for  a  day  or  two.  "  Ah,"  ex- 
claimed she,  "it  is  dead!"  "Dead!"  said  I. 
"  Yes,"  she  replied,  mournfully :  "  I  thought  it 
would  die  ;  to-morrow  it  must  be  turned  out  of  the 
pot." 

The  next  morning,  I  heard  my  grandmother  call- 
ing tome  in  a  sprightly  voice :  she  was  bustling 
about  in  her  little  garden  ;  and  I  judged  that  some- 
thing must  have  pleased  her.  As  soon  as  I  appear- 
ed :  "  Do  you  see,"  said  she,  and  she  held  up  the 
forlorn-looking  geranium  tree,  "  do  you  see  ?  I 
was  just  going  to  throw  it  away,  but  look  here,  and 
here,  and  there  again  !" 

I  stooped  down,  and  looked  very  particularly, 
for  I  had  no  spectacles  on  like  my  grandmother  :  at 
last  I  discovered,  here  and  there,  on  either  side  of 


THE    GERANIUM   TREE.  77 

the  old  withered  stump,  a  little  sprout  of  tender 
green.  A  tiny  budding  forth,  hardly  bigger,  to  be 
sure,  than  the  head  of  a  pin,  but  quite  enough  to 
dispel  the  fears  of  my  grandmother,  and  to  assure 
us  both,  beyond  a  doubt,  that  the  tree  was  alive. 

Look  up,  my  soul !  There  is  just  such  hope  for 
thee.  How  often  do  I  find  thee  sickly,  barren, 
cold,  and  lifeless  !  full  of  sin  and  wretchedness ! 
Thou  affrightest  me,  and  fillest  me  with  deep  dis- 
tress ;  yea,  I  am  ready  to  say  unto  thee,  "  Thou  art 
dead ;  why  cumberest  thou  the  ground?"  But, 
blessed  be  God  !  another  hour  dispels  these  fears. 
Another  hour,  and  I  discover  certain  signs  of  life. 
A  budding  forth  of  love  to  God,  hardly  discernible, 
a  tender  shoot  of  affection  for  all  the  disciples  of  Je- 
sus, a  love  of  God's  holy  word,  and  ever  a  yearning 
to  love  it  more.  Come,  these  are  signs  of  life  ;  for 
where  didst  thou  get  these  tender  buddings  1  Yes, 
my  soul,  thou  art  alive,  and  thy  life  is  everlasting ! 
Fear  not,  thou  shalt  yet  bud,  and  blossom,  and  bear  j 
thy  Saviour  owns  thee  •  and  none  shall  pluck  theo 
out  of  his  hand. 

"  Though  a  thousand  foes  assailing, 
Fill  my  soul  with  sad  dismay  ; 
Yet,  while  Jesus  firmly  holds  me, 
I  shall  never  fall  away." 


7* 


DEATH'S  VISITS  TO  THE    VILLAGE. 

A  WORD  FOR  THE  CLOSE  OF  THE  YEAR. 

They  say  that  people  live  longer  in  the  country 
than  in  the  town,  and  perhaps  they  may  a  few  short 
years  ;  but  be  not  deceived  by  the  saying,  my  coun- 
try friends,  for  the  word  of  the  Eternal  is  gone  forth: 
"  The  days  of  our  years  are  threescore  years  and 
ten  ;  and  if  by  reason  of  strength  they  be  fourscore 
years,  yet  is  their  strength  labour  and  sorrow ;  for 
it  is  soon  cut  off,  and  we  fly  away,"  Psa.  xc.  10. 
Neither  town  nor  country  can  prevent  the  visits  of 
death. 

Death  came  up  the  village.  It  was  in  the  spring  : 
the  fresh  leaves  were  budding  forth,  and  the  snow- 
drops were  peeping  out  of  the  ground.  He  went 
into  the  thatched  cottage  by  the  ash  tree,  where  sat 
old  Roger  Gough  in  his  arm-chair,  with  his  brow 
wrinkled  and  his  hair  white  as  flax.  Roger  was- 
taken  with  the  cramp  in  his  stomach,  and  soon 
ceased  to  breathe.  "  What  man  is  he  that  liveth, 
and  shall  not  see  death  ?  shall  he  deliver  his  soul 
from  the  hand  of  the  grave?"     Psa.  lxxxix.  48. 

The  wheelwright's  wife  sat  with  her  baby,  her 
first-born,  in  her  lap.  It  smiled  as  it  lay  asleep,  and 
breathed  softly.      The  mother  went  on  mending 


death's  visits  to  the  village.  79 

stockings,  every  now  and  then  casting  a  fond  look 
at  her  little  treasure.  That  day  week  its  gentle 
spirit  departed,  leaving  its  fond  parents  half  heart- 
broken. How  uncertain  is  human  life !  "  It  is 
even  a  vapour,  that  appeareth  for  a  little  time,  and 
then  vanisheth  away,"   James  iv.  14. 

Death  went  down  the  village  in  the  summer. 
The  heavens  were  bright  with  sunbeams,  and  the 
earth  seemed  to  smile  ;  the  gardens  were  in  their 
glory,  and  the  merry  haymakers  were  busy  in  the 
fields.  The  sexton's  son  had  long  been  ailing,  and 
all  agreed  that  he  could  never  struggle  through  the 
winter.  The  red  tinge  on  his  cheek  was  not  of  a 
healthy  hue :  consumption  had  marked  him  for  the 
grave.  He  had  taken  to  his  bed  a  fortnight,  when 
his  head  fell  back  gently  on  his  pillow,  and  he  went 
off  like  an  infant  going  to  sleep.  "  As  for  man,  his 
days  are  as  grass :  as  a  flower  of  the  field,  so  he 
flourisheth.  For  the  wind  passeth  over  it,  and  it  is 
gone  :  and  the  place  thereof  shall  know  it  no  more," 
Psa.  ciii.  15,  16. 

Butcher  Hancocks  was  the  strongest  man  in  the 
parish  ;  but  he  was  no  match  for  Death.  His  chest 
was  broad,  his  arms  were  sinewy  and  strong,  and 
his  frame  bulky  and  well  knit  together.  "  As 
hearty  as  Hancocks,"  was  a  common  adage.  No 
matter !  sickness  soon  robs  the  stoutest  of  his 
strength,  and  pulls  down  the  tallest  man  to  the 
ground.  The  fever  fastened  upon  him,  so  that  one 
hour  he  raged  with  heat  and  thirst,  and  the  next  his 


80  death's  visits  to  the  village. 

teeth  chattered  with  cold.  His  neighbours  carried 
him  to  his  grave.  "  Lord,  make  me  to  know  mine 
end,  and  the  measure  of  my  days,  what  it  is  ;  that  I 
may  know  how  frail  I  am.  Behold,  thou  hast 
made  my  days  as  a  handbreath ;  and  mine  age  is  as 
nothing  before  thee :  verily  every  man  at  his  best 
state  is  altogether  vanity,"   Psa.  xxxix.  4,  5. 

Death  crossed  the  village  in  the  autumn.  The 
orchard  trees  were  bending  beneath  their  load,  the 
sickle  was  at  work  among  the  wheat,  and  the  scythe 
was  sweeping  down  the  barley.  Never  was  known 
a  more  abundant  year.  The  loaded  teams  were 
seen  in  all  directions,  and  the  gleaners  were  picking 
up  the  scattered  ears  from  the  stubble.  Farmer 
Blount  was  a  wealthy  man.  He  was  in  the  corn- 
field with  the  reapers,  when  he  suddenly  fell  to  the 
ground.  Some  said  that  he  was  struck  by  the  sun, 
and  others  that  it  was  a  fit  of  apoplexy  ;  but,  what- 
ever it  was,  Farmer  Blount  never  spoke  after.  You 
may,  perhaps,  have  seen  his  tomb  by  the  stone  wall 
of  the  churchyard,  with  the  iron  palisades  round  it. 
Truly  may  each  of  us  say,  "  There  is  but  a  step  be- 
tween me  and  death,"   1  Sam.  xx.  3. 

Widow  Edwards  lived  in  the  shed,  at  the  back  of 
the  pound.  It  was  a  wretched  habitation  ;  but  the 
poor  cannot  choose  their  dwelling-places.  The 
aged  widow  had  wrestled  hard  with  poverty  ;  her 
bits  and  drops  were  few  and  far  between.  Her  son, 
who  ought  to  have  been  a  staff  for  her  old  age  to 
He  was  roving  and  thought- 


81 

.ess  ;  but  there  is  a  heartache  in  store  for  him  on 
account  of  his  aged  mother.  Death  found  the  widow 
alone,  lying  on  her  straw.  No  one  was  at  hand  to 
comfort  her,  or  to  close  her  eyes.  "  Watch  there- 
fore ;  for  ye  know  not  what  hour  your  Lord  doth 
come,"  Matt.  xxiv.  42. 

Death  went  round  the  village  in  the  winter, 
The  icicles  were  a  foot  long,  hanging  from  the  pent- 
house in  the  carpenter's  yard ;  and  the  snow  lay 
here  and  there  in  heaps,  for  it  had  been  shovelled 
away  from  the  front  of  the  cottages.  Not  a  stone's 
throw  from  the  finger  post  at  the  entrance  of  the  vil- 
lage dwelt  Abel  Froome,  the  clerk's  father.  For 
years  he  had  been  afflicted  ;  but  his  mind  was  stay- 
ed upon  Christ  the  Rock  of  ages,  and  he  loved  to 
think  of  eternal  things.  He  had  lived  to  a  goodly 
old  age  ;  and,  as  a  shock  of  corn  ripe  for  the  har- 
vest, he  was  ready  to  be  gathered  into  the  garner  of 
God.  While  his  days  were  numbering,  his  heart 
had  applied  unto  wisdom ;  and  he  knew  Him  whom 
to  know  is  eternal  life.  Death  found  him  sitting  up 
in  his  bed,  with  the  Bible  in  his  aged  hands  j  and 
the  last  words  that  faltered  from  his  lips  were, 
"  Lord,  now  lettest  thou  thy  servant  depart  in  peace, 
according  to  thy  word :  for  mine  eyes  have  seen  thy 
salvation,"  Luke  ii.  29,  30.  Thus  died  Abel 
Froome.  "  Mark  the  perfect  man,  and  behold  the 
upright :  for  the  end  of  that  man  is  peace,"  Psa, 
xxxvii.  37. 

The  habitation  of  Harry  Tonks  was  in  a  wretch- 


82 

ed  plight  when  Death  crossed  the  threshhold.  Har- 
ry was  an  infidel,  and  scoffed  at  holy  things.  His 
days  were  mostly  spent  in  idleness,  and  his  nights 
in  poaching,  and  in  tippling  at  the  Fighting  Cocks. 
Often  had  Harry  defied  Death  at  a  distance,  as  a 
bugbear  ;  but,  when  he  came  in  reality,  he  trembled 
like  a  child.  Pain  racked  him,  and  poverty  dis- 
tressed him ;  but  that  was  not  all ;  for  his  conscience 
was  at  work  within  him,  and  his  mind  was  dis- 
turbed. "  The  spirit  of  a  man  will  sustain  his 
infirmity ;  but  a  wounded  spirit  who  can  bear  ?" 
Prov.  xviii.  1 4.  It  was  a  horrid  sight  to  see  Harry 
clenching  his  hands,  tearing  his  clothes,  and  gnash- 
ing his  teeth  in  anguish,  and  quite  as  bad  to  hear 
the  curses  he  uttered  in  his  despair.  He  died  as 
the  wicked  die,  without  hope,  "  driven  from  light 
into  darkness,  and  chased  out  of  the  world,"  Job 
xviii.  18.  "Rend  your  heart,  and  not  your  gar- 
ments, and  turn  unto  the  Lord  your  God :  for  he 
is  gracious  and  merciful,  slow  to  anger,  and  of  great 
kindness,  and  repenteth  him  of  the  evil,"  Joel  ii.  13. 
If  Death  thus  goes  up  and  down,  and  across  and 
around  the  village,  at  all  seasons  of  the  year  ;  if  he 
takes  away  the  young  and  the  old,  the  feeble  and 
the  strong,  the  rich  and  the  poor,  the  righteous  and 
the  wicked,  how  long  will  he  pass  by  thee  ?  Is  it 
thy  prayer — "  Let  me  die  the  death  of  the  righteous, 
and  let  my  last  end  be  like  his?"  Numb,  xxiii.  10. 
Is  Christ  thy  hope,  thy  trust,  and  thy  salvation? 
If  po,  thou  mayst  indeed  rejoice,  and  say  with  exul- 


death's  visits  to  the  village.  83 

tation,  "  Though  I  walk  through  the  valley  of  the 
shadow  of  death,  I  will  fear  no  evil:  for  thou  art 
with  me ;  thy  rod  and  thy  staff  they  comfort  me," 
Psa.  xxiii.  4. 


THE  MARINER'S  COMPASS. 

"  Look  unto  me,  and  be  ye  saved,  all  the  ends  of  the  earth." 
— Isa.  xlv.  22. 

A  new  subject  and  novel  remarks  are  frequently 
excellent  things ;  but,  as  they  are  not  always  to  be 
had,  it  may  be  well  to  remember  that  an  old  subject, 
ay !  and  an  old  saying  too,  may  at  times  be  made 
very  profitable.  One  word,  then,  on  the  mariner's 
compass. 

The  finger  of  the  compass  points  toward  the 
north.  The  vessel,  by  its  reeling  and  tossing,  may 
cause  it  to  quiver  and  shake,  and  force  it  for  a  time 
from  its  natural  bent ;  but,  even  in  its  quivering,  you 
may  still  discover  the  point  from  which  it  unwill- 
ingly turns,  and  when  the  vessel  is  again  quiet, 
again  will  it  quickly  settle,  pointing  northward. 

Christ  is  the  point  towards  which  the  hearts  of 
his  people  are  directed  by  the  hand  of  God,  who 


84 

has  made  them  willing  in  the  day  of  his  power. 
But  temptation,  sin,  and  affliction,  may  toss  the  fol- 
lowers of  the  Redeemer  to  and  fro,  and  for  a  season 
force  them  from  their  proper  position.  The  world, 
the  flesh,  and  the  devil,  may  succeed  for  a  time  in 
turning  them  from  the  supreme  object  of  their  ado- 
ration ;  hut,  even  in  the  storm  of  temptation,  Christ 
is  the  point  to  which  their  desires  struggle  to  steady 
themselves.  Yea,  and  the  point  to  which  they  shall 
be  steadied  eternally,  when  there  is  no  more  rock- 
ing in  the  tempest  of  this  world's  tribulation. 


THE  SMUT  IN  THE  CORN. 

When  we  look  around  us  with  an  humble  and 
inquiring  spirit  to  obtain  knowledge,  there  are  few, 
if  any,  of  God's  works,  which  will  not  afford  les- 
sons of  useful  instruction. 

During  last  autumn,  I  was  walking  abroad  with 
a  Christian  friend  ;  and  we  passed  through  several 
corn-fields  when  the  wheat  was  full  in  thcear,  but 
not  ripe.  It  was  of  a  grateful  green  colour,  and 
waved  to  and  fro,  as  the  wind  passed  over  it,  like 
the  billowy  surface  of  the  sea.  The  stems  were 
very  high,  and  the  crop  appeared  abundant. 


THE    SMUT   FN   THE    CORN.  85 

Such  a  scene  brings  many  a  Scripture  subject  to 
the  mind  of  a  Bible  reader.  He  thinks  of  the  fam- 
ine in  the  land  of  Egypt,  when  for  seven  years 
there  was  "neither  earing  nor  harvest;"  of  the 
sheaves  that  stood  up  and  made  obeisance  to  the  one 
in  the  midst,  as  they  appeared  in  Joseph's  dream ; 
of  the  disciples  plucking  the  corn  as  they  walked 
through  the  corn-fields  on  the  sabbath  day  ;  of  Ruth 
gleaning  in  the  fields  when  Boaz  gave  command- 
ment to  his  young  men,  saying,  "  Let  her  glean 
■even  among  the  sheaves,  and  reproach  her  not;  and 
let  fall  also  some  of  the  handfuls  of  purpose  for  her, 
and  leave  them,  that  she  may  glean  them,  and  re- 
buke her  not ;"  of  the  seed  sown  in  good  ground, 
which  brought  forth  fifty  and  a  hundred  fold  j  and 
of  that  fearful  warning  wherein  it  is  said  of  the 
Lord  of  glory,  that  he  will  "  gather  the  wheat  into 
his  garner ;  but  the  chaff  he  will  burn  with  fire 
unquenchable,"  Luke  iii.  17. 

The  corn-field  was  surrounded  on  all  sides  with 
meadow  and  pasture  land,  and  fine  elm  and  oak 
trees  ;  so  that,  with  the  exception  of  here  and  there 
a  farmer's  homestead,  we  could  see  nothing  but  the 
sky  above  us  and  the  grateful  green  fields,  while  si- 
lence reigned  around.  How  different  was  such  a 
scene  from  the  high  houses,  the  thronged  pathway, 
the  crowded  carriages,  and  the  continual  rumbling 
and  rattling  of  Cheapside,  which  we  had  so  lately 
left! 

As  we  passed  through  the  field,  my  companion 
8 


86  THE    SMUT   IN    THE    CORN. 

began  to  pluck  some  of  the  wheat  ears.  He  brought 
half  a  dozen  of  them  to  me,  and  I  much  admired 
them  for  their  beauty  and  fulness;  but,  when  he 
told  me  to  press  the  grains  of  wheat,  I  found  that 
they  contained  nothing  but  a  thick  juice  of  a  dark 
blue  colour.  Soon  after,  we  met  two  good-looking 
farmers,  each  of  them  holding  a  handful  of  the 
very  same  kind  of  ears. 

The  truth  was,  there  was  a  smut  in  the  corn; 
and  my  companion  and  the  two  farmers  knew,  by 
the  appearance  of  the  ears,  which  were  good,  and 
which  were  filled  with  smut.  In  a  little  time,  I  too, 
was  able  to  distinguish  the  difference  between  the 
sound  ears  and  those  that  were  smutted.  The  lat- 
ter generally  appeared  as  good,  and  in  some  instan- 
ces better  than  those  around  them ;  but  the  practised 
eye  could  discover  in  them  a  slight  tinge  of  blue  or 
purple. 

This  little  incident  called  forth  a  train  of  reflec- 
tion's in  my  mind,  strengthening  my  opinion,  that 
most,  or  rather  all,  of  God's  works  may  afford  us 
lessons  of  instruction.  For  a  moment  I  likened 
mankind  to  a  wheat  field :  I  looked  on  human  be- 
ings as  the  stems  of  standing  corn,  some  holding  up 
their  head^s  proudly  above  their  neighbours,  some 
beaten  down  to  the  very  ground  by  the  storm  which 
had  passed  over  them,  and  others  rustling  and  bust- 
ling, to  and  fro,  as  the  gale  of  interest  or  passion 
blew. 

But  it  is  not  the  high  ear  in  the  corn,  nor  the  low 


TIIE    SMUT   IN   THE    CORN.  87 

ear,  neither  is  it  the  ear  that  is  being  blown  about, 
that  I  wish  to  speak  of.  Something  may  be  got 
from  all  these;  but  what  can  be  got,  or  what  can  be 
hoped  for,  from  the  ear  that  is  smutted  ?  The  rest 
of  the  corn  will  ripen,  and  the  smutted  corn  will 
appear  to  ripen  also  ;  but  its  dark  juice  will  only 
dry  up  to  a  nauseous  filthy  powder,  as  black  and  as 
bitter  as  soot.  The  smutted  corn  is  like  a  hypocrite, 
it  appears  to  be  what  it  is  not.  As  the  smutted  corn 
is  in  the  wheat-field,  so  is  the  hypocrite  among 
mankind. 

Whether  you  know  any  hypocrites  or  not,  it  is 
very  necessary  to  know  that  "  the  joy  of  the  hypo- 
crite is  but  for  a  moment;"  yea,  that  his  "  hope  shall 
perish,"  and  that  his  "  trust  shall  be  a  spider's  web," 
Job  viii.  13,  14  ;  xx.  5. 

If  you  look  around  you  in  the  world,  you  will 
find  that  those  who  are  upright  and  honest,  are 
willing  to  make  known  what  they  are,  while  those 
who  are  designing  and  dishonest  take  great  pains 
to  hide  what  they  are  ;  and  the  reason  is  plain  ;  for 
the  better  we  know  an  honest  man,  the  more  anx- 
ious we  are  to  have  dealings  with  him  ;  but  the  bet- 
ter we  know  a  rogue,  the  more  careful  are  we  to 
avoid  him. 

The  ignorant  quack  pretends  to  be  a  wise  doctor: 
he  boasts  of  the  cures  he  has  performed,  and  of  the 
sovereign  virtue  of  his  worthless  physic  ;  he  hides 
his  real  character. 

The  swindler  puts  on  a  smooth  face,  bargains  for 


88  THE    SMUT   IN   THE    CORN. 

goods,  and  talks  about  prices,  jingles  the  money  in 
his  pockets,  and  promises  payment  the  moment  they 
are  delivered,  though  he  never  purposes  to  pay  a 
farthing. 

The  imposter  ties  up  his  leg,  or  his  arm,  or  pre- 
tends to  be  blind,  that  he  may  ask  for  charity  with 
more  success.  All  these,  like  hundreds  of  others, 
are  in  disguise  ;  they  are  deceivers,  counterfeits, 
hypocrites.  They  are  not  what  they  seem  to  be  : 
they  are  smutted  ears  in  the  corn-field  of  mankind. 

It  is  bad  enough  to  see  hypocrisy  around  us ; 
still  worse  to  notice  it  •  in  the  same  house  with  us  ; 
but  worst  of  all  to  have  it  in  our  own  bosoms. 
How  is  it  with  you  ?  Is  all  right  within  doors  ? 
Are  you  sound  at  the  core  ? 

To  be  a  hypocrite  in  the  common  affairs  of  life, 
is  bad  and  base  ;  but  to  be  a  hypocrite  in  holy  things, 
is  truly  terrible.  How  severely  did  the  Saviour  re- 
buke hypocrisy !  "  Woe  unto  you,  scribes  and 
Pharisees,  hypocrites  !  for  ye  are  like  unto  whited 
sepulchres,  which  indeed  appear  beautiful  outward, 
but  are  within  full  of  dead  men's  bones,  and  of  all 
uncleanliness.  Even  so  ye  also  outwardly  appear 
righteous  unto  men,  but  within  ye  are  full  of  hy- 
pocrisy and  iniquity,"  Matt,  xxiii.  27,  28. 

How  vainly  does  the  hypocrite  persuade  himself 
that  he  is  not  known !  Dissemble  as  much  as  he 
will,  deceive  as  successfully  as  he  may,  there  is  still 
a  shade  of  difference  between  him  and  those  he  coun- 
terfeits, which  may  be  observed  by  some  of  the 


THE    SMUT   IN   THE    CORN.  89 

quicksighted  among  men ;  but,  even  if  he  escape 
the  eye  of  man,  how  shall  he  escape  the  all-discern- 
ing eye  of  God  % 

He  who  knows  the  secret  thoughts,  who  tries  the 
heart  and  the  reins,  can  distinguish  at  a  glance  the 
good  grain  from  the  smutted  corn :  happy  is  he  who 
can  say  with  godly  sincerity,  "  I  have  chosen  the 
way  of  truth."  "  Search  me,  O  God,  and  know  my 
heart :  try  me,  and  know  my  thoughts :  and  see  if 
there  be  any  wicked  way  in  me,  and  lead  me  in  the 
way  everlasting,"  Psa.  cxix.  30 ;  cxxxix.  23,  24. 

We  left  the  corn-field ;  and  no  doubt  before  this 
the  wheat  has  been  cut  down  by  the  sickle.  It  has 
been  gathered  into  the  garner,  or  piled  in  the  stack- 
yard ;  but  wherever  it  may  be,  the  smutted  ears  are 
valueless,  and  indeed,  as  I  was  informed,  would 
prove  injurious  even  to  the  good  wheat.  The 
scythe  of  death  will  soon  cut  us  down :  the  upright 
in  heart  will  be  as  wheat,  the  hypocrite  as  the  chaff 
which  the  wind  driveth  away.  How  fearful,  then, 
the  words  of  holy  writ,  u  He  will  thoroughly  purge 
his  floor,  and  gather  his  wheat  into  the  garner ;  but 
he  will  burn  up  the  chaff  with  unquenchable  fire," 
Matt.  iii.  12. 


THE     SERPENT'S     TAIL     AND     ITS 
HEAD. 

"  The  serpent's  tail,"  says  Medrash  Bamid  ben 
Rabar,  "  had  long  followed  the  direction  of  the 
head,  and  all  went  on  well.  One  day  the  tail  began 
to  be  dissatisfied  with  this  natural  arrangement,  and 
thus  addressed  the  head ; — l  I  have  long,  with  great 
indignation,  observed  thy  unjust  proceedings.  In 
all  our  journeys,  it  is  thou  that  takest  the  lead,, 
whereas  I,  like  a  menial  servant,  am  obliged  to  fol- 
low behind.  Thou  appearest  every  where  fore- 
most ;  but  I,  like  a  miserable  slave,  must  remain  in 
the  back  ground.  Is  this  just  1  Is  it  fair  1  Am  I 
not  a  member  of  the  same  body  ?  Why  should  not 
I  have  management  as  well  as  thou  V  '  Thou,'  ex- 
claimed the  head,  '  thou,  silly  tail,  wilt  manage  the 
body  !  Thou  hast  neither  eyes  to  see  danger,  nor 
ears  to  be  apprised  of  it,  nor  brains  to  prevent  it. 
Perceivest  thou  not  that  it  is  even  for  thy  advantage 
that  I  should  direct  and  lead  V  '  For  my  advantage, 
indeed  !'  rejoined  the  tail.  '  This  is  the  language 
of  all  and  every  usurper.  They  pretend  to  rule,  all 
of  them,  for  the  benefit  of  their  slaves  ;  but  I  will  no 
longer  submit  to  such  a  state  of  things.  I  insist 
upon,  and  will  take  the  lead  in  my  turn.'  '  Well, 
well,'  replied  the  head,  cbe  it  so;  lead  on.'     The 


THE    SERPENT'S   TAIL   AN1>    ITS   HEAD.  91 

tail,  rejoicing,  accordingly  took  the  lead.  Its  first 
exploit  was  to  drag  the  body  into  a  miry  ditch.  The 
situation  was  not  very  pleasant.  The  tail  struggled 
hard,  groped  along,  and  by  dint  of  great  exertion 
got  out  again  ;  but  the  body  was  so  thickly  covered 
with  dirt  and  filth,  as  hardly  to  be  known  to  belong 
to  the  same  creature.  Its  next  exploit  was  to  get 
entangled  among  briers  and  thorns.  The  pain  was 
intense  ;  the  whole  body  was  agitated  ;  the  more  it 
struggled,  the  deeper  the  wounds.  Here  it  would 
have  ended  its  miserable  career,  had  not  the  head 
hastened  to  its  assistance,  and  relieved  it  from  its 
perilous  situation.  Not  contented,  it  still  persisted 
in  keeping  the  lead.  It  marched  on,  and  at  length 
crept  into  a  fiery  furnace.  It  soon  began  to  feel  the 
dreadful  effects  of  the  destructive  element.  The 
whole  body  was  convulsed ;  all  was  terror,  confu- 
sion, and  dismay.  The  head  again  hastened  to  af- 
ford its  friendly  aid.  Alas !  it  was  too  late :  the 
tail  was  already  consumed.  The  fire  soon  reached 
the  vital  parts  of  the  body :  it  was  destroyed,  and 
the  head  was  involved  in  the  general  ruin.  What 
caused  the  destruction  of  the  head  ?  Was  it  not 
because  it  suffered  itself  to  be  guided  by  the  imbe- 
cile tail  V1 

Such  will  ever  be  the  course  and  end  of  all  who 
allow  bodily  passions  to  take  the  lead,  instead  of 
spiritual  affections.  "  As  is  the  earthly,  such  are 
they  also  that  are  earthy :  and  as  is  the  heavenly, 
such  are  they  also  that  are  heavenly,"  1  Cor.  xv.  48. 


THE  IVY. 

The  hungry  man  is  not  over  nice  in  his  food. 
The  poor  prodigal,  when  he  could  no  longer  ob 
tain  dainty  meat,  was  fain  to  take  up  with  "  husks 
that  the  swine  did  eat."  As  it  is  with  the  body,  so 
is  it  with  the  soul.  A  hungry  soul  will  be  glad  to 
get  sustenance  and  strength  from  the  meanest  thing 
under  heaven.  If  a  Christian  has  not  the  book  of 
God's  revelation  at  hand,  he  looks  at  the  book  of 
creation.  If  he  cannot  admire  the  all-glorious  sun 
in  the  skies,  he  takes  up  with  a  tree,  a  flower,  or  a 
leaf,  be  it  green  or  withered,  and  sees  therein  the 
handiwork  of  God.  The  oak  tells  him  to  be  stable  ; 
and  the  ivy  that  twines  around  it  is  not  without  its 
lesson  of  instruction. 

Ivy !  thou  art  ever  green, 
Let  me  changeless  then  be  seen  : 
While  my  Saviour  loves  me,  ne'er 
Let  my  love  grow  old  and  sere. 

Ivy !  clinging  round  the  tree, 
Gladly  would  I  learn  of  thee, 
Clinging,  as  the  year  goes  round, 
To  the  cross  would  I  be  found. 

Yes !     Come  shine  or  shade,  wet  or  dry,  sum- 
mer's heat,  or  winter's  chilling  blast !     If  the  ivy 


THE   IVY.  9S 

loses  its  hold  of  the  tree,  it  is  soon  trodden  under 
foot ;  and  if  I  lose  my  hold  of  the  cross  of  Christ, 
then  shall  I  also  perish. 


THE  TRACKS  IN  THE  CLAY. 

On  passing-  along  the  fields  at  no  great  distance 
from  a  country  village,  I  came  to  a  narrow  neck  of 
ground  which  was  bounded  on  the  one  side  by  a 
pond,  and  on  the  other  by  a  steep  rock,  but  the  nar- 
row neck  or  strip  of  ground  itself  was  a  miry  clay. 

This  miry  strip  of  ground  was  a  sort  of  defile,  a 
narrow  passage  from  the  higher  fields  and  roads  to 
the  lower.  All  the  footpaths  from  the  adjoining 
meadows,  and  all  the  lanes  from  that  part  of  the 
neighbourhood  met  there  ;  so  that  travellers  on  foot 
and  on  horseback,  gigs,  wagons,  and  carts  ;  horses, 
pigs,  sheep,  and  cattle,  all  had  to  pass  through  the 
defile. 

As  I  paused  for  a  moment,  sitting  on  a  stile,  and 
looking  down  into  the  defile,  I  was  struck  with  the 
numerous  tracks  or  marks  left  in  the  clay.  Here 
were  the  traces  of  wheels  of  various  kinds ;  there 
the  iron-shod  hoofs  of  horses  and  the  divided  hoofs 
of  cattle  had  left  their  impressions ;  while  the  foot- 


94  THE  TRACKS  IN  THE  CLAY. 

marks  of  men,  women,  and  children,  were  clearly- 
discerned.  In  one  place,  the  ring  of  a  patten  marked 
the  clay  ;  in  another,  the  light  footprint  of  a  female, 
who  had  trodden  carefully  on  her  toes,  was  seen  ; 
and  in  a  third,  the  hob-nailed  shoe  of  a  labouring 
man  had  pressed  firmly  and  deeply  on  the  yielding 
clay.  A  musing  fit  came  upon  me,  and  I  thus  pur- 
sued the  current  of  my  reflections. 

"  This  narrow  neck  of  land,  this  clayey  defile, 
sets  forth  no  unimportant  lesson  for  my  considera- 
tion ;  for  not  only  those  who  have  passed  this  place, 
but  every  human  being  also,  leaves  a  track  behind 
him  in  the  pathway  he  pursues  through  the  world. 
It  may  be  light  and  faint,  or  it  may  be  heavy  and 
strongly  marked,  but  some  trace  or  other  he  is  sure 
to  leave. 

"  How  many  a  king  has  waded  '  through  slaugh- 
ter to  a  throne !'  ruled  his  subjects  with  a  rod  of 
iron,  and  oppressed  those  whom  he  ought  to  have 
governed  with  'justice,  judgment,  and  equity!' 
How  many  a  '  hero '  has  spent  his  life  in  the  de- 
struction of  his  fellow-men,  shedding  the  life-blood 
of  countless  multitudes,  merely  to  gratify  vain  glory 
and  ambition  !  These  have  left  a  track  behind  them 
by  which  we  trace  their  unworthy  career. 

"  What  a  difference  there  is  between  the  track 
left  by  the  good  man,  and  the  track  of  the  wicked  ! 
'  The  way  of  the  wicked  is  as  darkness :  they  know 
not  at  what  they  stumble,'  but  '  the  path  of  the  just 


THE  TRACKS  IN  THE  CLAY.  '        95 

is  as  the  shining  light,  that  shineth  more  and  more 
unto  the  perfect  day,'   Prov.  iv.  18,  19. 

"  Look  at  the  track  left  by  the  desperately  wicked 
man.  In  youth,  he  was  idle,  and  a  sloven,  a  truant, 
and  a  speaker  of  lies.  He  grew  up  a  drunkard,  a 
sabbath-breaker,  and  a  blasphemer.  His  occupation 
was  poaching  and  thieving,  till  at  last,  as  a  murder- 
er, he  died  on  the  gallows.  You  may  trace  his  ca- 
reer in  his  slatternly  wife  and  vagabond  children  ; 
every  one  that  speaks  of  him  holds  his  memory  in 
abhorrence,  and  you  may  read  his  history  in  the 
Newgate  Calendar. 

"  The  track  left  behind  the  kind-hearted  Christian 
is  of  another  cast.  He  feared  God,  and  delighted 
in  obeying  his  will ;  he  loved  his  fellow-creatures, 
and  found  pleasure  in  doing  them  good.  Go  to  the 
Sunday-school ;  every  boy  knows  the  kind  instruc- 
tor who  gave  up  so  much  of  his  time  for  his  advan- 
tage. Go  to  the  almshouse  ;  the  widow  blesses  his 
memory.  Pay  a  visit  to  the  churchyard,  and  read 
the  verse  inscribed  upon  his  tombstone,  '  Mark  the 
perfect  man,  and  behold  the  upright ;  for  the  end  of 
that  man  is  peace,'  Psa.  xxxvii.  37.  '  Blessed  are 
the  dead  which  die  in  the  Lord,'  Rev.  xiv.  13. 
Trace  him  from  his  youth  to  his  age  ;  through  life 
and  through  death.  He  has  left  a  track  behind  him 
by  which  he  is  known. 

"  And  now,  what  track  wilt  thou  leave  behind 
thee  ?  or,  rather,  what  track  art  thou  now  leaving 
behind  thee?      Will  thy  memory  be  blessed  or 


*96  THE   TRACKS   IN   THE    CLAY. 

cursed  %  The  track  thou  wilt  leave,  thou  art  now 
making  ;  every  flying  day,  every  winged  hour,  is  a 
part  of  thy  brief  career.  Love  God,  fear  God, 
obey  God,  and  honour  God !  Live  the  life  of  the 
righteous,  then  shall  thy  latter  end  be  like  his.  Love 
even  thy  enemies ;  bless  them  that  curse  thee,  do 
good  to  them  that  hate  thee,  and  pray  for  them 
which  despitefully  use  ;hee,  and  persecute  thee.  Do 
these  things,  and  thy  track  may  be  traced  with  joy ; 
neglect  them,  and  it  will  be  pondered  with  sorrow." 


SINGING. 

Though  but  a  poor  singer,  yet  have  I  a  habit  of 
singing  when  alone.  A  little  thing  sets  me  off— a 
bit  of  green  on  the  earth,  or  a  bit  of  blue  in  the 
skies.  Yes,  yes,  I  like  singing,  and  often  sing  with 
my  heart,  when  my  lips  are  silent.  I  like  to  hear 
a  milkmaid  sing  in  the  green  meadow  when  her 
heart  is  so  happy  that  she  cannot  help  it.  I  love  to 
hear  a  song  uncalled  for.  Who  asks  the  birds  to 
sing?  They  sing  to  relieve  their  hearts,  and  this  is 
the  sort  of  singing  that  I  like.  I  love  to  hear  a 
loud  Hallelujah,  not  by  the  clear  musical  voice  of 


SINGING.  97 

one  who  is  paid  for  it,  but  by  a  thousand  tongues 
singing  with  the  heart  and  the  understanding. 

You  shall  have  my  favourite  song.  I  sang  it  in 
my  youth  and  my  manhood,  and  now  I  am  singing 
it  in  my  years. 

"  When  all  thy  mercies,  O  my  God 

My  rising  soul  surveys, 
Transported  with  the  view,  I'm  lost 

In  wonder,  love,  and  praise." 

Many  a  green  field  and  parched  heath,  many  a 
hill  and  valley  have  been  made  vocal  by  the  hum- 
drum voice  of  Old  Humphrey.  I  have  sung  this 
song  in  a  loud  voice  on  lonely  Salisbury  Plain,  and 
in  a  low  voice  in  crowded  Cheapside  and  the  Strand. 
I  have  sung  it  on  the  mountain  top,  and  a  hundred 
fathoms  deep  in  the  heart  of  the  earths— in  the  ruins 
of  Kenilworth  and  Tintern,  and  the  palaces  of  the 
Tuilleries  and  Versailles — among  the  waving 
woods  on  the  land,  and  amid  the  waves  of  the  heav- 
ing ocean.  Another  favourite  song  of  mine  is  the 
old  hundredth  Psalm,  composed  by  John  Hopkins, 
the  coadjutor  of  Thomas  Sternhold.  For  seven 
years  in  the  days  of  my  youth,  I  heard  it  sung  on 
every  sabbath,  and  instead  of  being  weary  of  the 
words,  unpoetical  as  they  are,  I  like  them  better 
than  ever. 

"All  people  that  on  earth  do  dwell, 
Sing  to  the  Lord  with  cheerful  voice : 
9 


98  SINGING. 

Him  serve  with  fear,  his  praise  forth  tell  ,* 
Come  ye  before  him  and  rejoice. 

The  Lord,  ye  know,  is  God  indeed, 
Without  our  aid  he  did  us  make  : 

We  are  his  flock,  he  doth  us  feed, 
And  for  his  sheep  he  doth  us  take. 

O  enter  then  his  gates  with  praise, 
Approach  with  joy  his  courts  unto ; 

Praise,  laud,  and  bless  his  name  always, 
For  it  is  seemly  so  to  do. 

For  why  1    The  Lord  our  God  is  good ; 

His  mercy  is  for  ever  sure ; 
His  truth  at  all  times  firmly  stood, 

And  shall  from  age  to  age  endure." 

Perhaps,  you  will  smile  at  an  old  man  singing 
this  psalm  by  himself,  as  it  is  more  suitable  for  pub- 
lic worship.  Well !  well !  Let  an  old  man  have 
his  own  way:  it  reminds  me  of  old  times,  and 
makes  me  happy.  My  voice  may  not  be  very  me- 
lodious ;  but  I  try  to  sing  with  my  heart :  as  the 
apostle  says,  "  I  will  sing  with  the  spirit,  and  I  will 
sing  with  the  understanding  also  "  1  Cor.  xiv.  15. 


BAMBOROUGH   CASTLE 

IN 

NORTHUMBERLAND. 

As  1  love  to  speak  well  of  a  poor  man,  so  do  I 
love  also  to  speak  m  praise  of  a  rich  one  when  I 
have  the  opportunity.  Whether  the  object  of  my 
praise  be  clad  in  lawn  or  linsey,  is  of  no  conse- 
quence whatever.  One  word,  then,  of  the  Bishop 
of  Bamborough  Castle. 

Lord  Crewe,  Bishop  of  Durham,  to  whom  Bam- 
borough Castle  belonged,  has  been  slumbering  in 
the  house  appointed  for  all  living,  more  than  a  hun- 
dred years  ;  and  all  that  I  know  of  him  is  this,  that 
he  was  the  founder  of  a  noble  charity  at  Bambo- 
rough Castle  for  the  succour  of  ship-wrecked  sea- 
men, the  education  of  children,  the  healing  of  the 
sick,  and  the  relief  of  the  poor. 

At  Bamborough  Castle  are  kept  blocks  and  tack- 
les, warps,  cables,  anchors,  mooring  chains,  kedges, 
pumps,  and  other  articles,  for  the  use  of  stranded 
vessels,  and  there  are  also  storehouses  for  such 
goods  as  may  be  saved.  Rooms  are  kept  neatly 
furnished  for  the  accommodation  of  ship-wrecked 
seamen ;  and,  in  order  that  vessels  in  distress  may 


100  BAMEOROUGH   CASTLE. 

be  seen,  two  men  patrol  the  coast  for  eight  miles 
day  and  night  in  stormy  weather.  When  a  fog 
comes  on,  a  hell  is  rung  at  the  Castle  at  intervals, 
and  every  quarter  of  an  hour  a  gun  is  fired  as  a 
warning  to  seamen,  and  a  guide  to  fisherman  in 
making  for  the  land. 

Within  the  Castle-yard  are  granaries  to  store 
corn :  this  corn  is  ground  into  flour  at  a  mill  stand- 
ing on  the  cliff,  and  the  poor  have  it  at  the  cost 
price :  they  have  groceries,  too,  on  the  same  terms. 
At  the  Castle  is  a  dispensary  to  supply  the  poor 
with  medicine,  free  of  all  cost,  and  a  surgeon  is  paid 
to  attend  to  the  ailments  of  the  afflicted.  Lastly, 
there  is  a  library  for  the  use  of  all  within  ten  miles 
of  the  place;  twenty  girls  are  boarded,  clothed, 
lodged,  and  educated,  until  they  are  old  enough  to 
go  to  service,  and  schools  are  established  for  the 
remaining  children  of  the  poor. 

Now,  is  not  this  a  noble  charity  %  Tell  me  not 
that  the  see  of  Durham  is  the  richest  of  all  sees, 
and  that  the  Bishop  of  Bamborough  could  well 
afford  to  do  all  that  he  did  while  he  was  alive,  and 
all  that  was  done  by  his  desire  after  his  decease.  I 
know  it  well ;  but  I  know  also  that  we  all  have 
power  to  be  charitable  to  the  bodies  and  souls  of  our 
fellow-beings,  and  I  am  afraid  that  we  are  much 
more  given  to  call  in  question  the  kindly  deeds  of 
others,  than  we  are  to  imitate  them  according  to  our 
ability.  Is  there  no  such  a  thing,  think  you,  as 
setting  up  a  Bamborough  Castle  of  our  own.  on  a 


BAMBOROUGH   CASTLE.  101 

small  scale  ?  Remember  the  two  mites  of  the  poor 
widow  cast  into  the  treasury.  It  is  not  the  amount, 
but  the  motive.  Do  we  do  what  we  can  %  I  know 
not  how  you  feel  after  what  I  have  told  you  of  the 
noble  charity  above  recorded ;  but  for  myself,  though 
its  founder,  as  I  told  you,  has  been  slumbering  in  the 
grave  for  more  than  a  century,  I  feel  a  kindly  spirit 
gathering  round  my  heart,  and  a  sincere  and  cordial 
respect  for  the  memory  of  the  Bishop  of  Bambo- 
rough  Castle. 


UPRIGHTNESS  IS  TRUE  PROSPERITY. 

It  is  a  thought  worth  spreading  widely  abroad, 
that  of  all  kinds  of  work  idleness  is  the  hardest ; 
and  of  all  trades,  successful  villany  is  the  least 
profitable.  No  thief  plunders  another  of  half  the 
amount  of  which  he  robs  himself;  no  men  are  so 
poor  as  the  ungodly  rich  ;  and  none  are  such  errant 
fools  as  the  worldly  wise. 

The  shrewd,  calculating,  money-getting  miser 
over-reaches  himself;  for  his  wealth,  when  attained, 
will  not  purchase  the  peace  that  is  enjoyed  by  the 
meanest  follower  of  the  Redeemer.  He  gains  dis- 
quietude, and  loses  repose  ;  he  sows  the  wind,  and 
9* 


102  UPRIGHTNESS   IS   TRUE   PROSPERITY. 

reaps  the  whirlwind  ;  and  he  spends  money  for  tha 
which  is  not  bread,  and  labours  for  that  which  satis 
fieth  not.  u  There  is  no  peace,  saith  the  Lord,  unto 
the  wicked,"  Isaiah  xlviii.  22.  Well  might  David 
exclaim,  "  I  had  rather  be  a  door-keeper  in  the 
house  of  my  God,  than  to  dwell  in  the  tents  of  wick- 
edness. For  the  Lord  is  a  sun  and  shield  :  the 
Lord  will  give  grace  and  glory :  no  good  thing  will 
he  withhold  from  them  that  walk  uprightly,"  Psalm 
lxxxiv.  10,  11 ;  Prov.  xii.  28. 


THE  MAN  IN  THE  MASK. 

If  you  have  never  heard  of  the  Man  in  the 
Mask,  you  will  think  the  following  narrative  some- 
what extraordinary.  About  two  hundred  years 
since,  the  astonishment  of  the  world  was  excited  by 
the  remarkable  circumstance  of  a  man  in  a  mask 
being  sent  privately  to  the  castle  in  the  isle  of  St. 
Margaret  in  the  Mediterranean.  This  personage 
wore  a  mask  so  contrived  that  it  gave  him  liberty  to 
eat  without  taking  it  off!  It  was  not  known  who 
he  was  even  by  his  keepers  ;  and  orders  were  given 
to  kill  him  if  he  should  attempt  to  discover  himself. 
After  remaining  at  St.  Margaret  for  nearly  thirty 


THE    MAN   IN   THE   MASK.  103 

years,  he  was  removed  to  the  Bastile,  at  Paris, 
where  he  occupied  the  best  apartments ;  and  was 
treated  with  such  respect,  that  the  governor  himself 
placed  the  dishes  on  his  table,  and  stood  in  his  pre- 
sence. He  was  refused  nothing  that  he  asked  for ; 
but  the  mask  was  never  removed.  No  one,  not 
even  the  physician  of  the  Bastile,  had  ever  seen  his 
face.  This  unknown  person  died  in  the  year  1704, 
and  was  buried  at  night,  in  the  parish  of  St.  Paul. 
Monsieur  de  Chamillard  is  said  to  have  been  the 
last  minister  intrusted  with  this  extraordinary  secret. 
When  on  his  death-bed,  he  was  urged  to  disclose 
the  mystery  of  the  Man  in  the  Mask ;  he  replied  that 
he  could  not ;  that  it  was  a  secret  of  state,  and  that 
he  had  sworn  never  to  reveal  it. 

Now,  extraordinary  as  the  circumstance  of  a  man 
wearing  a  mask  for  more  than  forty  years  undoubt- 
edly is,  yet,  when  we  consider  the  policy,  the  reser- 
vation, the  deceitfulness,  the  guile,  and  the  double- 
dealing  of  the  human  heart,  we  must  admit,  that  to 
find  a  man  that  did  not  wear  a  mask  would  be  still 
more  extraordinary.  Could  we  but  see  the  weak- 
ness of  the  strong,  the  ignorance  of  the  learned,  the 
cowardice  of  the  brave,  and  the  folly  of  the  wise ; 
could  we  only  discern  the  passions  and  motives  that 
influence  the  worst,  ay  and  the  best  of  men,  from 
hour  to  hour,  from  day  to  day,  and  from  year  to 
year,  we  should  be  compelled  to  regard  every  man 
as  wearing  a  mask,  and  concealing  thereby  the  real 
features  of  his  mind.     It  is  a  truth,  that  we  hide 


104  THE   MAN    IN   THE   MASK. 

more  than  we  reveal ;  but  God  seeth  through  all 
our  disguises  ;  "  for  his  eyes  are  upon  the  ways  of 
man,  and  he  seeth  all  his  goings,"  Job  xxxiv.  21. 
"  The  Lord  seeth  not  as  man  seeth  ;  for  man  look- 
eth  on  the  outward  appearance,  but  the  Lord  looketh 
on  the  heart,"   1  Sam.  xvi.  7. 


THE  PICTURE  FRAME. 

"  And  the  Lord  alone  shall  be  exalted  in  that  day." — Isa.  ii.  11. 

I  remember  in  the  days  of  my  youth  showing  to 
a  friend  a  drawing  of  mine,  of  which  I  was  not  a 
little  proud,  thinking  it  to  be  very  well  done.  It 
was  inclosed  in  a  very  pretty  frame,  which  I  had 
chosen  to  set  off  my  performance  to  the  best  advan- 
tage. My  friend  had  scarcely  glanced  at  my  draw- 
ing, when  he  exclaimed,  "  Oh  what  a  beautiful 
frame  !  where  did  you  get  it  ?"  Blushing  with 
mortification,  I  snatched  away  my  drawing,  and 
could  have  thrown  the  frame  in  the  fire  at  that 
moment,  though  it  had  before  given  me  so  much 
pleasure. 

This  was  a  fit  of  youthful  jealousy.  I  had  no 
objection  to  have  the  frame  admired ;  but  I  could 


THE   PICTURE   FRAME.  105 

not  bear  it  to  be  admired  instead  of  my  drawing. 
Since  then  I  have  often  been  reminded  of  this  fit  of 
youthful  jealousy  and  pride  by  what  I  have  ob- 
served in  the  conduct  of  God's  people. 

When  any  talk  of  prayer  and  praise,  of  holy  feel- 
ing and  godly  meditations,  the  hearts  of  true  be- 
lievers respond  to  these  things  ;  but  if  they  see  that 
these  are  trusted  in,  as  having  in  the  slightest  de- 
gree part  or  lot  in  the  matter  of  justification  before 
God,  they  cry,  "  Away  with  them !  away  with 
them." 

The  gilt  frame  of  a  picture  is  very  well  as  a 
frame,  but  it  has  nothing  to  do  with  the  merit  of  the 
picture  itself,  nor  should  Christian  gifts  and  graces 
ever  be  put  in  the  place  of  the  one  full  and  free 
sacrifice  offered  up  by  the  Redeemer  on  the  cross,- 
for  the  justification  and  redemption  of  his  people. 

The  Lord  our  God  has  declared  himself  a 
jealous  God.  He  hath  created  all  things  in  hea- 
ven and  earth  for  his  well-beloved  Son,  and  ho 
will  have  him  exalted  alone  in  the  matter  of  our  sal- 
vation. 

If  prayers,  tears,  and  pious  feelings  would  in  any 
way  atone  for  sin,  what  need  had  God  to  give  up 
his  dear  Son  to  die  a  shameful  death  1  But  does  not 
God  delight  in  prayer  and  praises  1  Yes :  He  does 
delight  in  them,  but  he  is  offended  with  those  who 
look  at  them  instead  of  looking  to  Christ. 

It  is  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  that  bore  our 
sins  in  his  body  on  the  tree.      He  has  bought 


106  THE    PICTURE   FRAME. 

us,  and  paid  for  us  with  his  own  precious  blood, 
therefore  unto  his  name  be  all  the  glory  for  ever 
and  ever.     Amen. 


THE  TOOTH-ACHE. 

Good  and  bad  thoughts  are  the  seeds  of  good  and 
bad  words  and  deeds :  they  multiply,  also,  our  joys 
and  our  sorrows.  Every  day  has  its  shine  and  its 
shade,  and  the  same  remark  may  be  made  of  all  our 
joys  and  all  our  griefs.  Our  pleasures  are  not  ex- 
empt from  inconvenience,  nor  are  our  pains  unac- 
companied with  advantage.  This  ought  to  be  borne 
in  mind  more  constantly  than  it  is. 

No  !  no  !  It  is  not  all  shadow  when  we  have  the 
tooth-ache.  Think  of  the  luxurious  feeling  when 
the  warm  handkerchief,  so  wishfully  regarded,  as  it 
hung  airing  at  the  fire,  comes,  at  last,  to  be  laid 
across  your  cheek,  and  tied  in  a  becoming  bow  un- 
der your  ear  !  Think  of  the  liberty  you  enjoy,  the 
cessation  from  all  employment,  the  exemption  from 
all  complaints,  but  your  own,  and  the  kind  attentions 
you  receive  !  No  one  requires  from  you  the  small- 
est service:  while  one  stirs  the  fire  to  make  the 
room  warm,  another  runs  to  fetch  a  pillow  ;  a  third 


THE   TOOTH- AC  HE.  107 

toasts  the  bread  for  your  gruel ;  and  a  fourth  asks 
if  any  thing  can  be  done  to  make  you  better? 
Then,  how  tenderly  every  one  in  the  house  speaks 
to  you,  and  in  what  a  subdued  and  soft  tone  of  voice 
are  you  asked  every  ten  minutes,  "  How  are  you 
now?" 

Say  what  you  will  of  the  tooth-ache,  but  these 
concomitants,  these  gentle  alleviations,  are  dear  to 
us  all.  We  soon  find  the  difference  in  our  position 
when  we  get  well  again,  and  we  know  this,  and  are 
not  always  in  haste  to  proclaim  our  convalescence. 
No  sooner  is  it  known  that  our  malady  has  subsided, 
than  the  handkerchief  is  withdrawn,  and  we  must 
set  to  work  again.  No  one  assists  us ;  no  one 
speaks  gently  to  us  ;  and  hardly  any  one  takes  no- 
tice of  us.  It  is  true  that  our  tooth-ache  is  gone  ; 
but  it  is  equally  true  that  with  it  have  disappeared  a 
hundred  sources  of  comfort  and  complacency. 

Let  us  apply  this  to  our  afflictions  generally, 
looking  less  at  our  bodily  ailments,  and  more  at  the 
spiritual  advantages  that  attend  them.  God's  mercy 
can  make  even  his  judgments  a  blessing  ;  and  by 
wounding  the  body,  he  can  heal  the  soul.  "  Our 
light  affliction,  which  is  but  for  a  moment,"  may 
lay  a  weight  of  gloom  on  our  minds,  but  yet  it  may, 
by  the  blessing  of  our  heavenly  Father,  "  work  for 
us  a  far  more  exceeding  and  eternal  weight  of  glory," 
2  Cor.  iv.  17. 


THE  WHETSTONE. 

On  the  top  of  a  hill  which  forms  the  boundary  to 
the  west  of  a  narrow  glen  called  the  Kettles,  about 
a  mile  to  the  west  of  Wooler,  on  the  Scottish  bor- 
der, there  are  some  remains  of  an  encampment. 
The  crag"  at  the  south  end  is  called  the  King's 
Chair,  because  a  king  is  said  once  to  have  sat  there, 
while  his  army  fought  in  the  glen  below.  A  little 
to  the  north  of  this,  is  a  large  stone,  which  might 
well  be  looked  on  as  the  parish  whetstone,  inasmuch 
as  it  is  worn  on  every  side,  just  as  though  a  whole 
neighbourhood  had  there  sharpened  their  edge 
tools.  But  what  think  you  is  reported  as  the  real 
cause  of  the  wearing  away  of  the  stone  ?  Why 
this:  that  the  soldiers  of  one  of  the  contending 
armies  retired  there  to  sharpen  their  swords  for 
renewed  combat,  after  they  had  blunted  them  so 
much,  in  hewing  down  their  enemies,  as  to  have 
rendered  them  unserviceable. 

We  see  how  soldiers  will  fight  for  a  little  praise, 
or  a  piece  of  money,  blunting  their  weapons  against 
the  bodies  of  their  fellow-men,  and  then  sharpening 
them  again  to  plunge  once  more  amid  the  bloody 
strife.  How  great  their  toil  and  danger,  and  how 
little  their  reward !  Now,  if  those  who  live  in 
strife  and  contention  take  such  trouble  to  fit  them- 


THE    WHETSTONE.  109 

selves  to  injure  others,  how  much  more  should 
Christians  exert  themselves  in  doing-  good !  Let  us, 
then,  look  more  closely  to  our  whetstones,  where 
we  may  rub  up  and  renew  our  kindly  affections  one 
towards  another.  The  house  of  God,  and  the 
throne  of  grace,  should  be  more  diligently  sought 
by  us,  that  an  edge  may  be  put  on  our  zeal  for  the 
Redeemer's  glory,  and  that  our  desires  may  be 
sharpened  after  every  good  word  and  work. 


SUNSHINE. 

You  are,  no  doubt,  a  lover  of  sunshine.  Your 
eye  has  brightened  while  gazing  upon  the  beam 
that  has  lighted  up  the  path  before  you,  made  the 
village  windows  blaze,  and  put  a  golden  star  on  the 
weathercock  of  the  church  steeple.  That  beam  has 
shined  into  your  very  heart,  and  made  you  feel  glad 
to  be  alive. 

But  there  is  another  kind  of  sunshine  that  you 
love.  Is  there  not  some  beloved  friend  whose  smile 
is  a  brighter  and  dearer  sunbeam  to  you  than  the 
brightest  beam  that  gladdens  the  earth  on  a  sum- 
mer's day  ?  Yes,  it  is  the  smile  of  a  husband,  a 
wife,  a  sister,  a  brother,  or — well,  no  matter  ! — it  is 
10 


110  SUNSHINE. 

the  smile  of  some  dear  being,  whose  every  thought 
is  blended  with  your  own,  and  without  whose  smile, 
in  the  merriest  summer  time,  this  would  be  a  gloomy 
world. 

But  the  shadows  of  evening  have  before  now 
closed  over  the  sunshine  that  has  gilded  your  path- 
way ;  and  if  night  has  not  yet  beclouded  the  sun- 
shiny smiles  of  those  you  love,  it  will  do  so  !  there 
are  removals  in  this  world  of  tribulation  that  wring 
the  heart !  You  may  have  to  go  and  weep  in  the 
grave-yard,  ere  long,  Avhere  they  have  laid  the  ob- 
ject dear  to  you  as  your  own  life  ! 

There  is  yet  another  kind  of  sunshine !  delight 
in  that,  and  no  night  shall  close  over  it  for  ever — 
the  sunshine  of  a  Saviour's  love  in  the  heart. 
Clouds  may  intervene  for  a  time,  but  those  clouds 
shall  pass  away ;  the  valley  of  the  shadow  of  death 
may  seem  to  shut  it  out  for  ever,  but  that  will  be 
only  the  last  cloud  breaking  away  before  the  dawn- 
ing of  eternal  daylight  and  the  blaze  of  everlasting 
sunshine :  for  it  is  expressly  written  that,  "  There 
shall  be  no  night  there,"  Rev.  xxi.  25.  Well,  then, 
may  the  clouds  and  storms  of  this  life  be  borne  witn 
patient  and  joyful  anticipation. 


SYMPATHY  FOR  SAILORS. 

It  was  a  rough  night,  a  very  rough  night ;  and 
I  was  just  retiring  to  rest,  when  in  an  awkward  at- 
tempt to  carry  three  books  into  an  adjoining  room 
one  of  them  fell  to  the  ground.  Picking  it  up,  and 
examining  the  opened  page,  to  see  if  it  was  soiled, 
my  eye  fell  on  the  following  paragraph :  u  I  saw  a 
boy  climb  to  the  main-top  mast ;  he  had  been  or- 
dered there  to  secure  a  loose  tackling;  he  would 
not  have  gone  there  could  he  have  helped  it.  The 
night  was  dark  to  pitchness  ;  but,  by  the  light  of  the 
binnacle,  I  saw  enough  to  tell  me  that  a  tear  was 
rolling  down  his  cheek.  There  was  no  moment 
for  delay ;  the  order  given  must  be  executed,  so 
away  went  the  boy.  It  was  a  boy  that  had  enter- 
tained me  with  everlasting  stories  of  his  mother 
and  his  home ;  and  who  told  me  of  the  dread  he 
had  that  he  should  never  return  to  them.  The  boy 
went  up.  I  watched  him  at  first,  and  then  listened 
to  him  :  he  had  gained  the  first  steeple,  now  flew  to 
the  second ;  had  put  his  foot  upon  the  yard,  and 
grasped  the  tackling,  when — when — but  my  brain 
reels  ;  for  what  I  heard  was  a  sudden  fall,  and  then 
a  gurgling  in  the  waters." 

Nothing  could  have  been  more  in  character  with 
ny  thoughts  than  this  affecting  narrative,  for  I  was 


112  SYMPATHY   FOR    SAILORS. 

at  the  moment  reflecting  on  the  dangers  of  the  bil- 
low-tost mariner  in  seasons  when  landsmen,  tucked 
up  in  their  warm  blankets,  repose  in  comfort  and 
security 

Very  little  rest  did  I  obtain  that  night ;  for  the 
wind  howled  and  raged  as  if  it  had  a  quarrel  with 
the  earth.  The  thunder,  too,  roared,  the  rain  de- 
scended, the  lightning  flashed,  and  I  thought  of 
heaving  billows,  and  shattered  ships,  and  ship- 
wrecked seamen.  While  the  storm  lasted,  oh  what 
sympathy  I  felt  for  sailors  ! 

The  morning  came,  the  storm  was  over,  the  sun 
shone  upon  the  ground,  and  when  I  seated  myself 
at  the  breakfast-table,  my  sympathy  for  sailors  was 
well  nigh  gone.  Thus  it  is  with  us  all ;  subjects 
which  ought  to  lay  hold  of  our  very  souls,  and  wring 
from  us  strong  compassion,  are  only  reflected  on 
when  some  arresting  fact  or  fiction,  or  some  unusual 
circumstance  brings  them  vividly  to  our  transitory 
remembrance.  The  debt  we  owe  to  sailors  is  great, 
yet  how  little  we  regard  it !  No  wonder  that  our 
proverbial  neglect  of  seamen  should  have  called 
forth  the  pungent  rebuke— 

"  God  and  our  sailor  we  adore 

In  times  of  danger,  not  before  : 

The  danger  o'er,  both  are  alike  requited — 

God  is  forgotten,  and  the  sailor  slighted." 


THE  BROKEN  FINGER-POST. 

Think  not  that  because  my  hairs  are  grey,  tne 
infirmities  of  age  confine  me  within  doors.  No ! 
no !  I  have  been  dealt  with  mercifully  ;  and  am 
often  found  a  long  way  from  my  own  fire-side. 

Some  time  ago,  when  travelling  in  a  strange 
neighbourhood,  I  came  to  a  place  where  the  road 
branched  off  in  two  opposite  directions,  so  that  how 
to  proceed  I  did  not  know.  It  was,  indeed,  a  puz- 
zling situation ;  for  as  night  was  coming  on,  my 
taking  the  wrong  road  would  have  been  attended 
with  great  inconvenience. 

At  last  I  perceived  a  finger-post,  which,  in  my 
perplexity,  I  had  not  noticed :  hastening  up  to  it,  I 
read  the  inscription  on  the  left  arm,  which  pointed 
towards  two  distant  towns,  neither  of  which  I  want- 
ed to  visit.  I  then  passed  round  to  look  at  the  op- 
posite arm,  when  lo  !  it  was  broken  off.  "  Well, 
come,"  said  I  to  myself,  taking  heart,  "  I  now,  at 
least,  know  very  well  the  road  I  am  not  to  go." 

We  sometimes  meet  with  such  difficulties  that  we 
seem  to  come  to  a  stand  in  our  minds,  not  knowing 
which  way  to  turn.  What  to  attempt,  how  to  act, 
and  what  will  be  the  end  of  it,  we  cannot  tell :  this 
part  of  the  finger-post  is  broken  off  In  such  trying 
and  dangerous  situations,  however,  when  we  might 
10* 


114  THE   BROKEN   FINGER-POST. 

be  tempted  to  turn  aside  from  the  path  of  duty,  God 
does  often  so  mercifully  hedge  up  some  of  our  ways 
with  thorns,  and  so  instruct  us  by  the  directions  of 
his  holy  word,  that  if  we  will  but  give  heed  to  it, 
there  is  a  plain  warning  given  of  the  road  we  are 
not  to  go.  This  is  an  unspeakable  mercy ;  let  us 
in  all  cases  turn  promptly  from  the  forbidden  path, 
and  leave  the  rest  to  Him.  If  we  sincerely  look  to 
Him,  in  a  child-like  spirit,  we  are  sure  to  obtain  the 
direction  he  has  promised  to  bestow.  He  will  bring 
even  "  the  blind  by  a  way  that  they  knew  not,"  and 
"lead  them  in  paths  that  they  have  not  known." 
He  "  will  make  darkness  light  before  them,  and 
crooked  things  straight."  "  Trust,"  then,  "  in  the 
Lord  with  all  thine  heart,  and  lean  not  unto  thine 
own  understanding.  In  all  thy  ways  acknowledge 
him,  and  he  shall  direct  thy  paths,"  Isa.  xlii.  16 ; 
Prov.  iii.  5,  6. 


THE  TIMES. 

The  times  !  the  times !  We  are  always  talking 
about  them  ;  but  though  we  moralize  much,  I  fear 
we  mend  but  little.  It  seems  to  be  a  kind  of  privi- 
lege, charter,  and  birthright  among  aged  people  to 


THE    TIMES.  r        H5 

praise  the  past  times,  and  deplore  the  present ;  the 
shadowy  future  is  not  so  frequently  the  subject  of 
conversation. 

But  truly  the  changes  are  great  that  take  place 
from  the  season  of  youth  to  that  of  grey  hairs.  In. 
my  day,  the  pulling  down  of  old  houses,  and  the 
building  up  of  new  ones  ;  the  deaths  of  old  men,  and 
the  coming  into  notice  of  young  men ;  the  altera- 
tions in  the  customs  and  fashions  that  once  prevail- 
ed, and  the  changes  in  the  opinions  of  mankind, 
have  so  altered  the  world,  that  it  is  indeed  other  than 
it  was. 

We  used  to  take  matters  quietly,  and  move  about 
more  at  our  ease ;  but  now,  bustle  is  the  order  of 
the  day  in  all  things  :  whatever  we  do  must  be  done 
by  steam.  Wherever  we  go,  we  must  go  by  rail- 
road, and  there  never  was  half  the  ballooning  goings 
forward  as  there  is  at  the  present  time.  Every  one 
once  thought  that  Chimborazo  was  the  highest 
mountain  in  South  America,  and  Dhawaligira  the 
loftiest  in  the  world ;  but  now  it  is  found  out  that 
Sarato  lifts  up  his  head  above  Chimborazo,  and  that 
Chamoulari  looks  down  on  Dhawaligira. 

But  while  times,  and  manners,  and  customs,  and 
opinions  are  thus  changing,  we  aged  people  should 
be  aware  that  we  are  changing  too.  My  limbs 
used  to  be  more  active  than  they  are  ;  and  my  brow 
was  once  free  from  wrinkles.  Whether  I  regard  it 
or  not,  these  grey  hairs  tell  a  tale  to  which  I  ought 
to  listen.     Have  the  years  through  which  I  have 


116  THE   TIMES. 

passed  been  many  ?  the  fewer,  then,  are  those  that 
remain  to  me,  and  the  stronger  the  reason  for  my 
thinking  less  of  seasons  gone  by,  and  more  of  those 
that  are  to  come.  Let  me  then,  amid  the  alterations 
of  the  times,  and  the  sundry  and  manifold  changes 
of  the  world,  look  to  Him  who  changes  not,  and  fix 
my  heart  where  true  joys  are  alone  to  be  found. 


EDMUND  HAWKER. 

I  hardly  thought,  at  one  time,  that  Edmund 
Hawker  would  outrun  Old  Humphrey;  but  it  is 
even  so,  and  he  has  got  clear  of  the  wilderness  be- 
fore me.  I  know  that  Edmund  was  a  man  of  sor- 
rows ;  but  I  know  too,  that  every  sorrow  was 
weighed  out  to  him,  even  to  the  scruple,  and  that 
the  hand  of  Him  whose  name  is  Love  held  up  the 
balances. 

People  say  that  he  was  poor,  and  so  he  was  in 
this  world's  wealth,  and  thank  God  for  it ;  for  if 
poverty  heaped  upon  him  many  cares,  it  kept  him 
back  from  many  snares ;  but,  after  all,  Edmund  was 
a  rich  man ;  and  I  will  tell  you  in  what  his  riches 
consisted — in  his  gains  and  his  losses  ;  ay !  in  his 
losses,  as  well  as  his  gains. 


,  EDMUND    HAWKER.  117 

Time  was,  when  Edmund  was  hale  and  strong, 
when  he  had  worldly  friends,  and  money  in  the 
bank ;  hut  his  riches  made  themselves  wings,  and 
fled  away ;  his  worldly  friends  forsook  him,  and 
sickness  pulled  down  his  strength,  and  made  him 
weak  as  childhood. 

It  was  a  sad  loss,  you  will  say,  to  lose  his  mon- 
ey !  Ay !  but  it  was  a  gain  to  Edmund ;  for  it 
taught  him,  or  rather  God  taught  him  by  it,  not  to 
"  trust  in  uncertain  riches,"  but  to  lay  up  for  him- 
self "  treasure  in  heaven."  Edmund  was  taught  to 
believe  that  "  Godliness  with  contentment  is  great 
gain  ;"  and  that  "  Better  is  little  with  the  fear  of  the 
Lord  than  great  treasure  and  trouble  therewith," 
1  Tim.  vi.  6 ;  Prov.  xv.  1 6. 

Many  pitied  him  when  his  worldly  friends  fell 
away,  and  said,  "  This  is  worse  than  ever ;"  but  it 
was  the  means  of  teaching  him  to  "  cease  from  man, 
whose  breath  is  in  his  nostrils."  He  found  that 
"  confidence  in  an  unfaithful  man  in  time  of  trouble 
is  like  a  broken  tooth,  and  a  foot  out  of  joint ;"  and1 
his  heart  was  turned  to  that  Friend  "  that  sticketh 
closer  than  a  brother." 

When  sickness  came  upon  Edmund,  many  cried 
out,  "  It's  all  over  with  him  now ;"  but  instead  of 
that,  it  was  the  best  thing  that  ever  befell  him.  Be- 
fore he  was  afflicted,  he  went  astray,  but  afterwards 
he  took  heed  to  the  word  of  the  Lord  ;  so  that  his. 
poverty  made  him  really  rich,  and  his  weakness 
made  him  truly  strong. 


118  EDMUND   HAWKER. 

Can  he  be  called  a  poor  man  who  has  a  friend  in 
Him  to  whom  belong  the  silver  and  the  gold,  and 
the  cattle  upon  a  thousand  hills  ?  Can  he  be  poor 
who  has  God's  presence  and  God's  grace  here,  and 
the  promise  of  beholding  God's  glory  hereafter  ? 
No  !  no  !  Edmund  was  a  rich  man  ;  he  lived  rich, 
he  died  rich :  rich  in  contentment,  rich  in  thankful- 
ness, rich  in  hope,  rich  in  faith,  rich  in  peace,  and 
rich  in  rejoicing  in  Christ  Jesus. 

Edmund  Hawker  had  his  troubles,  but  they  were 
all  sanctified ;  he  was  purified  in  the  furnace  of 
affliction ;  he  was  tried  in  the  fire,  but  he  came  forth 
as  gold.  His  last  days  were  his  best  days  ;  for  ho 
was  taught  so  to  number  them  as  to  apply  his  heart 
unto  wisdom. 

Turn  over  the  leaves  of  Edmund  Hawker's  Bi- 
ble, and  you  will  see  that  it  has  been  read  by  a  God- 
fearing man :  the  marks  left  there  will  tell  you  that 
he  heeded  God's  reproofs,  and  highly  valued  God's 
precious  promises  in  Christ  Jesus :  these  were,  in- 
deed, as  oil  to  his  joints,  and  marrow  to  his  bones. 

And  will  you  still  tell  me  that  Edmund  Hawker 
was  poor  ?  Who  then  is  rich  ?  Life  is  "  a  vapour, 
that  appeareth  for  a  little  time,  and  then  vanisheth 
away."  The  world  is  fading,  and  the  goodliness 
thereof,  with  all  its  riches,  will  be  known  no  more : 
then  will  it  be  found  that  heavenly  treasure  is  the 
only  treasure  worth  possessing. 

"  That  true  riches  are  they  which  will  not  pass  away, 
And  true  wisdom  the  fear  of  the  Lord." 


AN  UNFAITHFUL  FRIEND. 

Dm  you  ever,  by  any  accident  or  misfortuner 
break  a  tooth,  so  that  the  part  remaining  in  the 
head  was  as  tender  as  the  apple  of  your  eye  ?  If 
you  are  as  old  as  I  am,  most  likely  you  know  very 
well  what  I  mean,  without  further  description.  It 
is  of  no  use  being  peevish  when  a  tooth  gives  way 
through  age  and  infirmity :  we  should  call  to  mind 
the  service  it  has  rendered  us  in  times  gone  by,  and 
that  may  reconcile  us  to  put  up  with  a  little  incon- 
venience and  pain.  But  did  you  ever  so  far  forget 
yourself  as  to  try  to  bite  a  hard  crust  with  your  poor 
broken  tooth  %  I  can  see  you  screw  up  your  face  at 
the  very  thought  of  it.  Why,  the  pain  in  such  a 
case  runs  up  to  the  very  brain  like  lightning.  We 
are  poor,  impatient  creatures ;  and  if  it  did  not 
please  God  in  mercy  to  melt  our  hearts  now  and 
then  with  a  sense  of  his  unspeakable  goodness,  we 
should  be  more  impatient  than  we  are. 

Did  you  ever,  in  walking  along  hastily  or  care- 
lessly, tread  with  your  foot  on  one  side,  and  sprain 
your  ancle  to  such  a  degree  that  the  weight  of  an 
ounce  upon  it  would  have  made  you  shout  aloud 
with  agony?  This  is  by  no  means  an  unlikely 
case,  if  you  have  been  a  pilgrim  for  any  length  of 
time  in  the  rough  and  crooked  pathways  of  this  un- 


120  AN   UNFAITHFUL   FRIEND. 

even  world.  Well,  then,  biting  a  hard  crust  with  a 
broken  tooth,  and  trusting  your  whole  weight  on  a 
sprained  ancle,  is  just  like  putting  confidence  in  a 
faithless  friend,  when  you  stand  in  need  of  his  as- 
sistance. You  will  find  the  words  in  Pro  v.  xxv.  19. 
'"  Confidence  in  an  unfaithful  man  in  time  of  trouble 
is  like  a  broken  tooth,  and  a  foot  out  of  joint,"  and 
you  will  find  the  meaning  of  them  in  your  own 
heart  and  soul,  if  ever,  in  a  season  of  calamity,  you 
lean  for  support  on  that  pointed  spear,  an  unfaithful 
friend.  Then  will  you  be  ready  to  estimate  aright 
the  injunction,  "  Cease  ye  from  man,  whose  breath 
is  in  his  nostrils :  for  wherein  is  he  to  be  accounted 
of?"  Isa.  ii.  22,  and  to  cry  out,  "  He  whom  I  trust- 
ed has  deceived  me !  The  best  of  men  is  but  a  brier, 
and  the  most  upright  is  sharper  than  a  thorn  hedge  " 
Micah  vii.  4. 

Let  us  seek  God's  grace,  that  we  may  never  play 
the  part  of  an  unfaithful  friend  ourselves :  and  in 
order  to  prevent  disappointments,  let  us  trust  in  that 
"  Friend  that  sticketh  closer  than  a  brother,"  who, 
among  the  changes  of  the  world,  changes  not ;  but 
is  "  the  same  yesterday,  and  to-day,  and  for  ever." 
Of  Him  the  poet  beautifully  says — 

One  there  is  above  all  others, 

Well  deserves  the  name  of  friend, 

His  is  love  beyond  a  brother's, 
Costly,  free,  and  knows  no  end. 

They  who  once  his  kindness  prove, 

Find  it  everlasting  love. 


BERNARD  GILPIN. 

Oh  how  I  love  to  read  of  a  man  who  has  loved 
mercy,  and  practised  kindness !  Bernard  Gilpin 
lived  in  the  reigns  of  Queen  Mary  and  Glueen  Eliz- 
abeth, and  obtained  by  his  piety,  zeal,  and  benevo- 
lence, the  name  of  u  The  Apostle  of  the  North." 
At  that  time,  the  feuds  and  quarrels  among  the  peo- 
ple of  the  north  counties  ran  high,  and  very  few 
men  had  sufficient  influence  to  soften  down  the  an- 
gry passions  of  the  people.  On  one  occasion,  when 
Bernard  was  in  the  pulpit,  two  opposing  parties  met 
in  the  church,  and  there  seemed  but  little  doubt  that 
a  fray  was  on  the  eve  of  taking  place.  Bernard  de- 
scended from  the  pulpit,  and  placing  himself  between 
the  hostile  parties,  prevailed  on  them  to  put  off  their 
intended  battle  till  the  service  should  be  over.  He 
then  exhorted  them  from  the  pulpit  in  so  earnest, 
affectionate,  and  effectual  a  manner,  that  they  gave 
up  their  purpose  of  fighting  on  that  day,  and  also 
agreed  that  so  long  as  the  good  man  remained  in 
the  neighbourhood,  there  should  be  no  strife  and 
contention  between  them. 

It  is  written,  "  Blessed  are  the  peacemakers:  for 

they  shall  be  called  the  children  of  God,"  Matt.  v. 

9.     Now  when  we  read  this  text,  and  when  wo 

hear  of  instances  like  that  related  of  Bernard  Gil- 

11 


122  BERNARD   GILPIN. 

pin,  wherein  a  kindly  spirit  has  subdued  the  rage 
of  hot  and  angry  hearts,  it  should  move  us  to  make 
trial  of  our  powers  in  the  art  of  peacemaking.  It 
is  a  noble  achievement  to  bring  one  to  his  proper 
senses  who  has  been  beside  himself  with  anger, 
hatred,  malice,  and  all  uncharitableness !  to  take  the 
fire  from  the  inflamed  eye,  the  venom  from  the 
stinging  tongue,  to  disarm  the  uplifted  hand,  and  to 
change  the  bitterness  of  the  revengeful  bosom  into 
forgiveness  and  love ! 

The  readiest  way  to  fit  ourselves  to  be  peacema- 
kers, is  to  encourage  a  peaceable  disposition  in  our 
own  hearts,  taking  heed  to  the  exhortation  of  the 
apostle :  "  Let  all  bitterness,  and  wrath,  and  anger, 
and  clamour,  and  evil  speaking,  be  put  away  from 
you,  with  all  malice :  and  be  ye  kind  one  to  another, 
tenderhearted,  forgiving  one  another,  even  as  God 
for  Christ's  sake  hath  forgiven  you,"  Eph.  iv.  31,  32. 


COMMON  OCCURRENCES. 

Let  me  run  through  a  few  of  the  common  every- 
day affairs  of  life.  .  I  lost  my  way,  and  was  for  a 
time  sadly  perplexed;  but  when  I  regained  my 
path,  I  could  have  sung  for  joy :  the  wind  blew 


COMMON   OCCURRENCES.  123 

dust  into  my  eyes,  and  blinded  me  ;  but  it  only  ren- 
dered me  doubly  grateful  for  my  eyesight  after- 
wards :  I  had  travelled  far.  and  felt  hunger  and 
thirst ;  but  this  made  my  frugal  meal  a  feast  of  fat 
things  in  my  estimation :  for  a  time  I  was  sorely 
troubled  with  a  fit  of  the  toothache  ;  it  passed,  and 
oh,  how  delightful  it  was  to  be  at  ease  !  I  mislaid 
my  spectacles,  and  could  not  see  to  read  the  Bible ; 
never  was  I  so  thankful  for  spectacles  as  when  I 
found  them :  I  was  cast  down,  and  brought  very 
low ;  but  I  went  in  my  weakness  to  Him  who  is 
strong,  and  soon  felt  like  a  giant  refreshed  with 
wine. 

Well  instructed  Christians  not  only  know  but 
feel  that  all  things  work  together  for  good  to  them 
that  truly  love  God ;  and  they  may  truly  say, 

Our  purest  pleasures  spring  from  pains  ; 
Our  heaviest  losses  are  our  gains ; 
Weakness  gives  strength,  peace  follows  strife, 
And  death  brings  everlasting  life. 

If  winter  heightens  our  enjoyment  of  spring, 
summer,  and  autumn,  let  us  be  thankful  for  winter. 
If  the  darkness  of  the  night  enhances,  in  our  esti- 
mation, the  brightness  of  the  day,  let  us  thank  God 
for  the  midnight  gloom.  Nothing  can  be  clearer 
than  that  the  shade  is  as  necessary  as  the  shine,  and 
deprivation  as  salutary  as  enjoyment.  The  trials 
and  perplexities  of  life  are  an  essential  part  of  God's 


124  COMMON   OCCURRENCES. 

mercies,  and  a  Christian  man  should  never  ponder 
on  the  gloom  of  earth,  without  contrasting  it  with 
the  glory  of  heaven. 


THE  GODS  OF  THE  HEATHEN. 

The  Egyptians  worshipped  Osiris,  Isis,  Typhon, 
Anubis,  Serapis,  and  Harpocrates.  The  Persians 
adored  Armuzd,  Mithas,  and  Ahriman.  The  Hin- 
doos bowed  down  to  Brahma  the  creator,  Seeva  the 
destroyer,  and  Vishnu  the  preserver.  These,  and 
many  other  gods,  were  acknowledged  by  the  Egyp- 
tians, the  Persians,  and  the  Hindoos. 

The  Babylonians  worshipped  Belus ;  the  Ca- 
naanites,  Philistines,  and  Syrians,  adored  Moloch, 
Baal.  Dagon,  and  Rimmon ;  the  Peruvians  bowed 
down  to  the  sun,  moon  and  stars ;  and  the  Mexicans 
paid  divine  honours  to  Vitzliputzli  and  Kaloc. 
These,  and  many  other  gods,  were  acknowledged 
by  the  Babylonians,  the  Canaanites,  the  Philistines, 
the  Syrians,  the  Peruvians,  and  the  Mexicans. 

The  Scythians  worshipped  Tabite,  Papius,  Apia, 
Stripassa,  Oestosynes,  and  Thamimasides ;  the 
Scandinavians  adored  Odin,  Frea,  and  Thor ;  the 
Celts,  whose   priests  were  called    Druids,  bowed 


THE  GODS  OF  THE  HEATHEN.        125 

down  to  Teutates,  Dis,  and  Andate :  and  the  Greeks 
and  Romans  paid  divine  honours  to  Ccelus,  Terra, 
Saturn,  Jupiter,  Neptune,  Mercury,  Apollo,  Mars, 
Vulcan,  Juno,  Ceres,  Minerva,  Vesta,  Diana,  Ve- 
nus, Cybele,  Pluto,  Sol,  Bacchus,  and  Luna. 
These,  and  many  other  gods,  were  acknowledged 
by  the  Scythians,  the  Scandinavians,  the  Celts,  the 
Greeks,  and  the  Romans. 

Under  various  shapes,  and  accompanied  with  un- 
numbered abominations,  were  these  idols  worship- 
ped. They  were  formed  of  gold,  silver,  brass,  iron, 
wood,  and  stone.  The  heathen  poured  out  human 
blood  before  them  as  freely  as  water,  and  "  sacrificed 
their  sons  and  their  daughters  unto  devils,"  Psa. 
cvi.  37. 

The  Egyptians,  Persians,  and  Hindoos ;  the 
Babylonians,  Canaanites,  Philistines,  and  Syrians ; 
the  Peruvians,  Mexicans,  and  Scythians  ;  the  Scan- 
dinavians, Celts,  Greeks,  and  Romans,  of  olden 
times,  have  passed  away,  but  idolatry  has  yet  its 
temples  on  the  earth.  Reader,  leave  awhile  the 
heathen,  and  enter  the  recesses  of  thine  own  heart. 
Neither  Moloch,  nor  Dagon,  nor  Ashtaroth,  nor 
Buddha,  nor  Juggernaut,  may  have  there  a  shrine  ; 
yet  may  there  be  a  "  house  of  Rimmon  "  in  which 
thou  secretly  bowest  down  !  "  Thou  shalt  have  no 
other  gods  before  me,"  is  the  commandment  of  Him 
whom  thou  professest  to  worship.  Remember  then 
that  selfishness  is  sin,  and  that  covetousness  is 
idolatry. 

11* 


126        THE  GODS  OF  THE  HEATHEN. 

The  heathen  bent  the  knee  to  idols  in  darkness 
and  ignorance  ;  but  if  thou  committest  idolatry,  it  is 
against  light  and  knowledge.  The  heathen  wor- 
shipped gods  proverbial  for  deformity  ;  but  if  thou 
bowest  down  to  sin,  thou  bowest  down  to  an  uglier 
idol  than  Osiris,  Dagon,  Baal,  Ashtaroth,  Moloch, 
or  Juggernaut. 

Return,  O  holy  Dove,  return, 

Sweet  messenger  of  rest ; 
I  hate  the  sins  that  made  thee  mourn, 

And  drove  thee  from  my  breast. 

The  dearest  idol  I  have  known, 

Whate'er  that  idol  be, 
Help  me  to  tear  it  from  thy  throne, 

And  worship  only  thee. 


THE  DEEP  PIT. 


I  remember  reading  in  a  humorous  author  some 
pieces  of  advice  on  the  matter  of  purchasing  a  horse. 
"  If  you  wish  to  possess  a  sure-footed  animal,"  says 
he,  "  and  one  that  may  be  relied  on,  look  out  for  one 
broken  at  the  knees ;  for,  depend  upon  it,  a  horse 
that  has  once  come  down,  and  broken  his  knees 


THE    DEEP   PIT.  12? 

against  the  flints  and  stones,  will  not  do  so  again  if 
he  can  help  it." 

This  advice  scarcely  agrees  with  the  opinion  or 
practice  of  those  who  value  themselves  on  their 
knowledge  of  horses  and  horsemanship ;  and  not 
being  enough  of  a  jockey  myself  to  settle  the  point, 
I  leave  the  matter  as  I  find  it,  contenting  myself 
with  applying  the  principle  laid  down  to  men  in- 
stead of  brute  animals. 

It  is  said,  with  some  truth,  that  "  a  burned  child 
dreads  the  fire  ;"  and  it  might  be  added  that  a  half- 
drowned  man  has  some  fear  of  the  water  ;  by  which 
I  gather  that  both  our  errors  and  calamities  may,  to 
a  certain  degree,  be  corrected  and  avoided  by  the 
penalties  and  inconveniences  they  bring  upon  us. 

Very  proudly  did  I  once  walk  along  some  slip- 
pery rocks  at  the  edge  of  a  deep  pit.  Again  and 
again  was  I  cautioned  to  be  careful,  and,  in  fact,  to 
come  away  altogether  from  the  place,  for  it  was  a 
dangerous  spot,  and  many  accidents  had  occurred 
there ;  but  no !  Mr.  Highmind  had  too  good  an 
opinion  of  his  own  care  and  discretion.  Suddenly 
my  foot  slipped  from  under  me,  and  down  I  came 
upon  the  hard  and  slippery  rock. 

It  was  a  fortunate  thing  for  me  that  I  succeeded 
in  laying  hold  of  a  projecting  crag,  just  as  I  was 
sliding  into  the  pit  below ;  for  had  I  not  done  so,  it 
is  hard  to  say  whether  I  should  ever  have  stood  on 
my  feet  again.     As  it  was,  Mr.  Highmind,  with  all 


128  THE   DEEP   PIT. 

the  humility  of  a  heaten  spaniel,  crept  away  from 
the  place  on  his  hands  and  knees. 

Now,  though  all  the  cautions  of  my  guide  had  no 
effect  upon  me,  my  fall  cured  me  at  once  of  my  fol 
ly.  No  need  was  there  for  me  to  be  exhorted  to 
practise  care  and  caution.  I  was  a  perfect  pattern 
of  carefulness,  a  complete  model  of  humility  and 
circumspection:  let  who  would  be  reckless  and 
careless,  Old  Humphrey  was  not  one  of  the  num- 
ber. How  full  of  significancy  is  that  text  of  the 
royal  psalmist,  "  Before  I  was  afflicted  I  went 
astray :  but  now  have  I  kept  thy  word,"  Psa.  cxix. 
67. 

There  is  a  pit  deeper  and  more  dangerous  than 
the  one  of  which  I  have  spoken,  even  the  pit  of  de- 
struction. Many  regard  it  at  a  distance  without  fear, 
and  others. venture  on  its  very  brink  without  appa- 
rent concern ;  but  when  once  a  sense  of  danger  gets 
possession  of  the  soul,  what  tears  are  shed,  what 
groans  are  uttered,  and  what  prayers  are  offered  up 
for  security !  Sanctified  fear  is  a  costly  thing.  It 
was  with  this  conviction  on  his  mind  that  a  Scottish 
divine  put  up  the  following  prayer  to  the  Father  of 
mercies,  for  an  irreligious  and  ungodly  king, 
"  Shake  him  o'er  the  mouth  o'  hell  but  dinna  let 
him  fa'  in!" 


TYRANNY  AND  OPPRESSION. 

It  may  not  be  an  unprofitable  question  to  ask 
ourselves  if  we  are  not  too-  apt,  when  we  think  of 
tyranny  and  oppression,  to  apply  these  terms  to 
cases  wherein  the  great  and  the  mighty  of  the  earth 
alone  are  concerned.  Pharaoh,  for  instance,  op- 
pressed the  children  of  Israel,  requiring  them  to 
make  brick  without  straw ;  and  since  then,  many 
other  tyrants  have  ruled  the  nations  under  their 
control  with  a  rod  of  iron.  But  instances  of  tyran- 
ny and  oppression  are  continually  taking  place  in 
the  common  walks  of  life.  We  shall  do  well  not 
to  forget  that  example  in  Holy  Writ,  wherein  he 
who  had  been  forgiven  a  debt  went  and  took  his  fel- 
low-servant by  the  throat,  saying,  "  Pay  me  that 
thou  owest,"  Matt,  xviii.  23—35. 

One  of  the  most  striking  illustrations  of  oppres- 
sion that  I  ever  met  with,  was  in  a  retired  lane  in  a 
country  village.  Passing  along  a  high  bank  in  a 
field,  my  attention  was  drawn  to  the  lane  below,  by 
a  scuffling  noise  and  a  loud  barking.  Looking 
down  from  the  bank,  I  saw  a  young  pointer  dog 
standing  before  a  lamb,  and  every  now  and  then 
jumping  up  at  the  unprotected  animal  and  laying 
hold  of  his  nose,  or  his  ear.  The  dog  must  have 
been  thus  occupied  for  some  time,  for  the  poor  lamb 


130  TYRANNY   AND   OPPRESSION. 


-i 


was  almost  exhausted.  You  may  be  sure  that  I 
was  not  long  in  making  the  best  of  my  way  down 
from  the  high  bank  into  the  lane,  and  instructing 
the  tyrant  of  a  pointer  dog,  in  the  most  summary 
manner,  that  though  he  was  stronger  than  the  help- 
less creature  he  had  so  long  tormented,  he  was  not 
beyond  the  reach  of  punishment. 

There  is  something  so  paltry,  so  pitifully  mean  in 
oppressing  another,  merely  because  you  have  the 
power,  that  such  hateful  conduct  deserves  the  sever- 
est reprobation.  When  a  master  tyrannizes  over 
his  servant,  when  a  creditor  oppresses  his  debtor, 
when  a  rich  man  grinds  the  face  of  the  poor,  and 
one  who  is  strong  takes  advantage  of  another  who 
is  weak,  it  is  a  hateful  sight,  and  highly  discredita- 
ble to  humanity.  Never  do  I  witness  an  instance 
of  this  kind  without  thinking  of  the  poor  lamb  and 
the  pointer  dog. 


JEWISH  CUSTOM. 


A  Christian  man  will  gladly  learn  from  a  Jew 
aught  that  will  render  him  more  humble  in  his  own 
estimation.  That  was  a  striking  custom  which  the 
Jews  used  to  observe  at  their  wedding  feasts,  of  the 


JEWISH    CUSTOM.  131 

bride  and  bridegroom  drinking  together  from  the 
same  glass,  and  then  breaking  the  glass  in  pieces. 
This  was  intended  to  teach  them  that  all  earthly  en- 
joyments are  as  brittle  as  glass.  Their  bosoms 
might  beat j- and  their  eyes  sparkle  with  joy,  but  the 
hope  of  its  continuing  long  was  weak  as  a  spider's 
thread.  There  is  no  security  but  in  the  favour  of 
God. 

Pharaoh  was  king  of  Egypt,  and  reigned  proud- 
ly, thinking,  no  doubt,  that  the  crown  was  firm  on 
his  head,  and  the  sceptre  safe  in  his  hand ;  but 

The  sceptres  and  the  crowns  of  kings 
Are  frail  and  insubstantial  things. 

In  the  pride  of  his  power,  when  the  strength  of  his 
kingdom  was  brought  forth,  his  captains,  his  chari- 
ots, and  his  horsemen,  he  was  overtaken  by  the 
closing  waters  of  the  Red  Sea,  and  overwhelmed 
with  sudden  destruction. 

Belshazzar  was  king  of  Babylon :  great  was  his 
power,  his  pomp,  and  his  ambition ; 

But  royal  pomp  and  kingly  power 
Are  but  the  baubles  of  an  hour. 

So  confident  was  he  of  the  durability  of  his  great- 
ness, that  he  made  a  feast  to  a  thousand  of  his  lords, 
and  drank  with  his  princes,  his  wives,  and  his  con- 
cubines, out  of  the  golden  cup  of  the  house  of  God, 
and  praised  the  gods  of  gold,  silver,  brass,  iron, 


132  JEWISH   CUSTOM. 

wood,  and  stone.  But  the  handwriting  on  the  wall 
struck  him  with  dismay,  and  in  "  that  night  was 
Belshazzar  the  king  of  the  Chaldeans  slain,"  Dan. 
v.  30. 

Herod  was  the  proud  and  confident  king  of  Ju- 
dea ;  but  in  the  midst  of  his  pride  and  power  he 
was  suddenly  brought  low. 

Alas,  how  frail,  how  soon  are  flown, 
The  passing  pageants  of  a  throne ! 

On  a  set  day,  when  arrayed  in  his  royal  apparel, 
he  sat  upon  his  throne,  and  made  an  oration  to  the 
people.  "  And  the  people  gave  a  shout  saying,  It 
is  the  voice  of  a  god,  and  not  of  a  man.  And  im- 
mediately the  angel  of  the  Lord  smote  him,  because 
he  gave  not  God  the  glory :  and  he  was  eaten  of 
worms,  and  gave  up  the  ghost,"  Acts  xii.  22,  23. 

With  such  instances  as  these  before  us  of  the  in- 
stability of  earthly  possessions  and  enjoyments,  and 
the  suddenness  with  which  the  most  highminded 
and  confident  have  been  struck  down  from  the  seat 
of  self-exaltation,  let  us  walk  humbly  with  God, 
and  depend  entirely  on  his  grace.  The  broken 
glass  in  the  nuptial  ceremony  of  the  Jew,  is  a  fit 
subject  for  the  consideration  of  a  Christian. 

For  all  should  know,  amid  their  greatest  gains, 
How  frail  a  thread  their  earthly  hope  sustains. 


FOOD. 

The  thought  may  never  have  struck  you,  that  it 
is  very  possible  to  be  starved  to  death  in  the  midst 
of  food,  and  to  die  of  thirst  in  the  middle  of  the  sea  ; 
for  many  kinds  of  food  are  no  more  adapted  to  the 
appetite  and  nourishment  of  a  human  being-,  than 
the  salt  water.  Give  a  dog  hay,  a  horse  flesh,  a 
cow  fish,  and  a  man  grass,  and  they  will  all  soon 
be  in  a  miserable  case. 

Now  if  this  be  true  of  the  body,  it  is  equally  true 
of  the  soul.  A  thriving  soul  must  live  on  thriving 
food,  and  that  prayer  of  Agur  the  son  of  Jakeh, 
"  Feed  me  with  food  convenient  for  me,"  is  an  ex- 
cellent one,  whether  it  refer  to  quality  or  quantity, 
Prov.  xxx.  8. 

If  you  have  ever  eaten  that  which  has  disagreed 
with  you,  I  need  take  no  pains  to  describe  the 
weight,  the  pain,  and  sickness  of  body  you  have 
endured.  And  if  you  have  ever  devoured  with  a 
greedy  mind  the  doctrines  of  legality,  pharisaism, 
infidelity,  and  atheism,  you  must  know  pretty  well, 
or  if  you  do  not  now,  you  will  know  some  time,  the 
distressing  doubt,  darkness,  disappointment,  fear  and 
remorse  which  such  poisonous  food  occasions  to  the 
mind. 

We  are  not  sufficiently  thankful  for  the  supply 
12 


134  FOOD. 

of  health,  and  temporal  and  spiritual  food,  which 
the  great  Giver  of  all  good  has  so  abundantly  pro- 
vided for  us.  We  have  no  need  to  feed  on  husks, 
for  there  is  a  fatted  calf  prepared  for  us  by  our  hea 
venly  Father.  While  the  ground  brings  forth  fifty 
and  a  hundred  fold,  while  the  trees  bend  beneath 
their  summer  and  autumnal  load,  and  while  the 
creatures  of  the  land  and  the  water  are  given  us  for 
food,  shall  we  do  well  to  reject  them,  and  to  gather 
the  poison  berries  of  the  hedges  to  assuage  our  hun- 
ger ?  While  the  records  of  eternal  truth,  the  ever- 
lasting gospel  of  Jesus  Christ,  is  within  our  reach, 
shall  we  act  wisely  in  taking  up  with  the  vain 
refuges  of  lies,  and  the  idle  dreams  and  dogmas  of 
mutable  men  ?  Oh  no  !  let  us  feed  on  food  conve- 
nient for  us,  and  let  our  souls  prosper  in  banqueting 
on  the  word  of  God ;  for  "  the  law  of  the  Lord  is 
perfect,  converting  the  soul :  the  testimony  of  the 
Lord  is  sure,  making  wise  the  simple.  The  stat- 
utes of  the  Lord  are  right,  rejoicing  the  heart ;  the 
commandment  of  the  Lord  is  pure,  enlightening  the 
eyes.  The  fear  of  the  Lord  is  clean,  enduring  for 
ever :  the  judgments  of  the  Lord  are  true  and  right- 
eous altogether.  More  to  be  desired  are  they  than 
gold,  yea,  than  much  fine  gold :  sweeter  also  than 
honey  and  the  honeycomb.  Moreover  by  them  is 
thy  servant  warned :  and  in  keeping  of  them  there 
is  great  reward,"  Psa.  xix.  7 — 11. 

Have  a  care  of  high  seasoned  and  exciting  food, 
whether  for  the  body  or  the  soul.     Who  so  tongue- 


FOOD.  135 

valiant  and  reckless  as  the  drunkard  in  his  cups  ? 
and  who  so  faint-hearted  and  cowardly  at  other 
times  ?  Who  so  confident  of  heaven,  as  he  who 
would  get  there  by  his  own  deeds  ?  yet  who  so  fear- 
ful of  hell  when  he  comes  to  die  ?  Healthy  spirit- 
ual food  keeps  the  spirit  humble.  The  humble  soul 
standeth,  because  it  taketh  heed  lest  it  should  fall ; 
it  walketh  uprightly,  because  it  feareth  the  Lord : 
and  it  exults  without  danger,  because  it  rejoices  with 
trembling. 


AGED  CHRISTIANS. 

Experience  has  taught  me  that  few  things  have 
a  stronger  tendency  to  confirm  the  wavering,  to 
raise  up  the  spirits  of  the  desponding,  and  to  estab- 
lish the  faith  of  the  steadfast  among  ^he  people  of 
God,  than  a  visit  to  the  habitations  of  such  aged 
Christians  as  have  borne  the  heat  and  the  burden  of 
the  day,  and  are  about  to  enter  into  the  joy  of  their 
Lord.  The  youthful  traveller  is  apt  to  presume  on 
his  strength :  but  he  is  ignorant  of  the  rough  places 
and  thorny  pathways  he  has  to  tread ;  he  knows 
not  the  trying  influence  of  the  sultry  sun,  and  the 
wintry  blast,  with  which  the  way-faring  man  has  to 


136  AGED    CHRISTIANS. 

contend.  The  young  recruit,  ardent  in  spirit,  listens 
to  the  inspiring  sounds  of  the  drum  and  the  trum- 
pet, and  dreams  of  nothing  but  victory:  the  toilsome 
march,  the  weary  midnight  watch,  the  bloody  strug- 
gle, and  the  carnage  of  the  battle-plain,  are  un- 
known to  him.  And  so  it  often  is  with  the  youthful 
Christian :  he  feels  equal  to  any  trial ;  he  is  ready 
to  make  any  sacrifice ;  and  is  willing,  like  Peter  of 
old,  to  die  rather  than  deny  his  Master.  But  alas  ! 
alas  !  the  faintings,  the  haltings,  the  backslidings  of 
Christians,  are  enough  to  make  us  tremble  while 
we  rejoice  in  the  hope  set  before  us.  And  therefore 
it  is  that  I  say,  few  things  are  more  calculated  to 
give  real  encouragement  and  strength  to  the  seeking 
soul,  than  a  visit  to  the  habitation  of  those  who  have 
endured  the  burden  and  heat  of  the  day ;  whose 
loins  are  girded;  and  whose  staves  are  in  their' 
hands  ;  ready,  willing,  and  anxious  to  depart,  and  to 
enter  into  the  promised  land. 

Such  were  my  thoughts  as  I  walked  away  from 
the  humble  habitation  of  an  aged  servant  of  God, 
whose  soul  rftis  long  magnified  the  Lord,  and  whose 
spirit  is  usually  occupied  in  rejoicing  in  God  her 
Saviour.  I  found  her  heavily  burdened  with  the 
bodily  afflictions  of  more  than  four-score  years. 
Her  comforts  were  few,  and  of  the  plainest  kind  ; 
and  the  greater  part  of  the  day,  and  the  whole  of 
the  night,  she  always  passed  alone.  There  she  sat 
in  her  arm  chair,  almost  bent  double,  sorely  op- 
pressed with  disease,  tormented  with  acute  pain; 


AGED    CHRISTIANS.  137 

but,  in  the  darkness  of  her  affliction,  her  eye  and  her 
heart  were  alike  fixed  on  the  Star  of  Bethlehem. 
"  One  thing,"  said  she,  "  troubles  me  ;  I  find  it  hard 
to  l  glory  in  tribulations.'  I  can  say  '  It  is  the  Lord : 
let  him  do  what  seemeth  him  good ;'  and  I  know 
that  in  faithfulness  he  has  afflicted  me ;  but  still  I 
find  it  hard  to  '  glory  in  tribulations.'  No  .one  feut 
God  can  enable  us  to  rejoice  in  the  furnace.  St. 
Paul  spoke  of  '  light  affliction  ;'  but  I  feel  that  mine 
is  very  heavy,  and  is  only  light  when  compared  to 
the  glory  which  shall  be  revealed :  but,  blessed  be 
God,  this  does  not  weaken  my  faith  m  the  gospel  of 
Christ ;  for  I  know  of  a  surety  that '  it  is  the  power 
of  God  unto  salvation  to  every  one  that  believeth.' 
The  foundation  standeth  sure,  <  I  know  whom  I 
have  believed,  and  am  persuaded  that  he  is  able  to 
keep  that  which  I  have  committed  unto  him  against 
that  day,'  "  2  Tim.  i.  2. 

Then  she  spoke  of  the  goodness  of  God  towards 
her,  that  in  the  midst  of  her  transgressions  and  in- 
firmities she  had  been  kept  from  bringing  a  reproach 
on  the  people  of  God.  Then  she  dwelt  on  the 
abundant  mercies  of  which  she  had  been  an  unwor- 
thy partaker  all  her  life  long,  until,  at  last,  her  spirit 
revived  afresh,  and  she  did  indeed  rejoice  in  the 
Lord,  and  glory  in  the  God  of  her  salvation. 

This  is  the  way  in  which  it  pleases  a  gracious 

God  to  uphold  (in  the  feebleness,  and  infirmities, 

and  afflictions  of  age)  the  hope,  and  the  faith,  and 

the  joy  of  his  people.     It  is  a  pleasant  thing  to  con- 

12* 


138  AGED   CHRISTIANS. 

verse  with  the  youthful  Christian,  while  he  drinks 
of  the  "  brook  by  the  way,"  and  ardently  pursues 
his  heavenly  course  ;  but  it  is  more  abundantly  pro- 
fitable to  hear  the  heart-pourings  of  the  aged,  who 
are  on  the  threshold  of  eternity,  and  to  whom  the 
everlasting  gates  are  about  to  be  lifted  up,  that  they 
may  have  an  abundant  entrance  into  everlasting  life. 

When  flesh  and  heart  are  failing  fast, 

And  hope  has  almost  fled  away ; 
E'en  in  that  trying  hour,  at  last, 

The  Lord  their  God  becomes  their  stay. 


THE  TOO  HASTY  REPROOF. 

11  Neighbour,"  said  I,  to  one  of  my  friends  who 
lives  near  me,  "  you  have  sadly  splashed  your  stock 
ings  !  In  the  state  in  which  the  roads  now  are,  a 
little  care  is  required  in  crossing  them,  which  care, 
it  is  very  plain,  you  have  not  exercised.  If  you 
were  a  little  more  careful,  your  appearance  would 
not  be  a  whit  the  less  respectable." 

My  neighbour  civilly  thanked  me  for  my  very 
excellent  advice,  and  then  added  that  as  I  had  so 
narrowly  scrutinized  his  stockings,  it  would  do  me 
no  harm  to  take  a  glance  at  my  own.     This  1  im- 


THE   TOO   HASTY   TtEPKOOF.  139 

mediately  did,  and  found  to  my  confusion,  that  if  he 
had  been  in  the  mud,  I  had  as  surely  been  in  the 
mire.  How  it  happened,  I  cannot  tell ;  but  certain 
it  is  that  I  was  by  no  means  in  a  fit  state  to  call  him 
to  account  in  the  manner  I  had  done.  However, 
this  advantage  attended  the  affair,  that  I  resolved 
another  time  to  give  a  sharp  look-out  for  my  own 
imperfections  before  I  ventured  to  rebuke  those  of 
another. 

"  O  wad  some  power  the  giftie  gie  us 
To  see  ourselves  as  others  see  us, 
It  wad  frae  mony  a  blunder  free  us, 
And  foolish  notion." 

If  it  were  only  half  as  easy  to  amend  ourselves, 
as  to  reprove  others  ;  and  if  in  giving  advice  we 
could  secure  the  benefit  we  are  so  intent  to  confer  on 
our  neighbours,  how  often  would  Old  Humphrey 
be  spared  the  mortifying  reflection  that  he  was 
scattering  abroad  what  was  wanted  at  home.  Only 
two  days  ago,  while  in  the  very  act  of  recommend- 
ing more  care  to  a  servant  who  had  upset  a  saltcel- 
lar, he  knocked  a  drinking-glass  from  the  table  with 
his  elbow,  and  broke  it  to  pieces. 


WHAT  GOOD  CAN  I  DO  ? 

"  What  good  can  I  do  ?"  is  an  observation  more 
frequently  made  by  such  as  wish  to  excuse  them- 
selves from  doing  good,  than  by  those  who  sincerely 
desire  to  effect  it.  This  is  much  to  be  regretted, 
because  it  is  next  to  an  impossibility  to  be  in  a  situa- 
tion wherein  we  can  do  no  good.  He  who  really 
wishes  to  do  good,  may  do  something. 

If  by  doing  good  we  mean  something  unusual, 
something  great,  something  that  people  may  talk 
about,  we  certainly  may  not  have  it  in  our  power  to 
perform  it ;  but  to  do  good  on  a  small  scale,  is  in 
the  power  of  every  one. 

When  the  poor  widow,  mentioned  in  the  New 
Testament,  could  not  put  a  large  sum  into  the  treas- 
ury, she  cast  therein  two  mites  :  and  it  was  said  of 
her,  that  she  had  done  more  than  others,  because 
they  had  only  given  of  their  abundance,  but  she  of 
her  poverty.  You  must  be  poor  indeed  if  you  can- 
not spare  two  mites  in  a  case  of  necessity. 

When  the  Lord  of  life  and  glory  speaks  of  the 
recompence  that  shall  attend  acts  of  Christian  kind- 
ness, he  does  not  say  a  bag  of  money,  or  a  goblet 
of  wine  shall  be  recompensed,  but,  "  Whosoever 
shall  give  to  drink  unto  one  of  these  little  ones  a  cup 
of  cold  water  only  in  the  name  of  a  disciple,  verily 


WHAT   GOOD   CAN   I   DO  ?  141 

I  say  unto  you,  he  shall  in  no  wise  lose  his  reward," 
Matt.  x.  42.  You  must  be  ill  provided  for,  indeed, 
if  you  cannot  command  a  cup  of  cold  water  ! 

It  is  the  will,  and  not  the  power,  that  is  wanting  • 
for  every  human  being  that  breathes,  and  possesses 
the  use  of  his  faculties,  may  do  good.  Look  around 
you  for  opportunities'  of  usefulness ;  for  sometimes, 
if  you  cannot  do  a  kind  deed,  yet  a  kind  word,  ay, 
even  a  kind  look  will  be  useful.  A  small  kindness, 
if  well  timed,  may  be  more  useful  than  a  great  one 
performed  without  consideration. 

No  sooner  did  the  Philippian  jailor  in  sincerity 
exclaim,  "  What  must  I  do  to  be  saved  ?"  than  an 
answer  was  given  to  him,  "  Believe  on  the  Lord 
Jesus  Christ,  and  thou  shalt  be  saved,  and  thy 
house,"  Acts  xvi.  30,  31.  And  no  sooner  shall 
you,  with  equal  sincerity,  ask,  "  What  good  can  I 
do?"  than  opportunities  will  present  themselves 
on  every  hand,  and  you  will  be  ready  to  acknow- 
ledge, that  he  who  really  desires  to  do  good,  may 
be  useful. 


THE  NATURAL  CREATION. 

A  thought  to  a  thoughtful  man  is  somewhat  like 
a  meal  to  a  hungry  man  :  for  the  mind  requires  food 
as  well  as  the  body.  He  who  can  see  nothing  but 
wisdom,  and  power,  and  beauty  in  the  natural  crea- 
tion, knows  not  half  its  value.  Good  it  is  to  regard 
in  the  works  of  God  the  power  and  wisdom  of  God, 
and  to  gaze  with  delight  on  the  transcendent  beauty 
that  decorates  earth  and  heaven  ;  but  he  who  would 
drink  deeply  of  that  spirit  of  thankful  delight  which 
the  true  lover  of  nature  enjoys,  must  be  keenly  sus- 
ceptible to  the  goodness  and  love  so  universally 
mingled  with  the  visible  creation. 

A  voice  has  gone  forth  that  nature  shall  be  felt  as 
well  as  seen  by  man  ;  that  it  shall  harmonize  with 
his  affections,  be  accommodated  to  the  moods  of  his 
mind,  and  blend  with  his  very  being. 

"  To  him  who,  in  the  love  of  nature,  holds 
Communion  with  her  visible  forms,  she  speaks 
A  various  language  ;  for  his  gayer  hours 
She  has  a  voice  of  gladness,  and  a  smile 
And  eloquence  of  beauty  ;  and  she  glides 
Into  his  darker  musings  with  a  mild 
And  gentle  sympathy,  that  steals  away 
Their  sharpness  ere  he  is  aware.'' 

The  rising  sun  is  in  unison  with  the  energy  of 


THE    NATURAL    CREATION.  143 

man ;  the  kindling  skies  call  forth  his  imagination  j 
the  buds  and  flowers  animate  his  hopes,  and  the  sere 
leaf  and  the  soft  shadows  of  evening  move  him  to 
salutary  reflection.  When  he  feels  at  ease,  the  mo- 
tionless mead,  the  silent  rural  scene,  and  the  still 
waters,  are  as  music  to  his  emotions.  And  when 
he  walks  abroad,  at  war  with  himself,  fevered  with 
wrong,  wounded  by  calumny,  or  stung  with  self- 
reproach,  the  waving  trees  and  murmuring  rills  are 
peacemakers  ;  the  very  hues  of  creation  are  oil  and 
balm  to  him  ;  there  is  mercy  in  the  cool  greens  of 
earth,  and  the  mild  blues  of  heaven,  for  they  calm 
his  troubled  spirit,  and  soothe  him  to  repose. 

As  an  old  man,  I  speak  feelingly  and  gratefully 
on  this  subject ;  for  few  have  revelled  more  freely 
amid  natural  scenery  than  Old  Humphrey:  and 
none  are  more  indebted  than  he  to  its  health-giving 
properties  and  peace-restoring  powers.  Those  who 
have  no  relish  for  nature's  banquets  will  do  well  to 
endeavour  to  attain  it ;  and  to  him  who  possesses  it, 
and  yet  guiltily  foregoes  his  opportunities  of  visiting 
the  country,  I  would  say,  in  the  words  of  the  poet : — 

"  Oh  how  canst  thou  renounce  the  boundless  store 
Of  charms  that  nature  to  her  votary  yields'? 
The  warbling  woodland,  the  resounding  shore, 
The  pomp  of  groves,  the  garniture  of  fields, 
All  that  the  genial  ray  of  morning  gilds, 
And  all  that  echoes  to  the  song  of  even ; 
All  that  the  mountain's  sheltering  bosom  shields, 
And  all  the  dread  magnificence  of  heaven ; 
Oh  how  canst  thou  renounce,  and  hope  to  be  forgiven  1 


144  THE   NATURAL    CREATION. 

Courage,  Christian !  Creation  tells  us  that  there 
is  a  God,  good,  and  great,  and  glorious  !  and  Reve- 
lation tells  us,  that  "  this  God  is  our  God  for  ever 
and  ever,"  Psa.  xlviii.  14. 


THE  PEDANT. 


Are  you  open  to  reproof?  for  if  so,  there  is  hope 
of  amendment  in  every  error ;  but  if  you  are  ob- 
stinate and  high-minded,  you  are  in  a  pitiable  case. 

We  are  told  that  a  pedant,  being  shipwrecked, 
and  seeing  every  one  around  him  clinging  to  some- 
thing to  keep  himself  afloat,  laid  fast  hold  of  one  of 
the  anchors. 

This  story  at  first  seems  a  little  extraordinary. 
That  a  man  vain  of  his  knowledge  should  manifest 
such  extreme  simplicity  and  folly,  is  hardly  to  be 
believed ;  but  if  we  look  about  us  in  the  world,  and 
regard  the  actions  of  mankind,  or  examine  narrow- 
ly the  errors  of  our  own  hearts,  we  shall  not  be 
quite  so  much  surprised  at  the  pedant's  absurdity. 

It  is  very  true  that  the  man  of  books,  in  his  eager 
desire  to  preserve  life,  adopted  the  readiest  means  to 
ensure  his  destruction  ;  but  it  is  equally  true  that  we 
are  continually  committing  acts  of  folly  and  incon- 


THE    PEDANT.  145 

sistency.  Heirs  of  immortality  as  we  are,  we  cling 
to  the  things  of  time,  set  our  hearts  on  uncertain 
riches,  and  for  the  temporal  accommodation  of  our 
bodies,  endanger  our  very  souls. 

Where  is  the  man  who  does  not  give  way  to  an- 
ger while  he  seeks  for  forgiveness  ?  who  does  not 
practice  severity  while  he  hopes  for  mercy?  and  in- 
dulges pride  while  he  praises  humility  ?  We  ask 
for  God's  gifts,  and  then  deem  them  our  own  ac- 
quisition. We  claim  his  promises,  while  we  neglect 
his  precepts ;  and  petition  for  his  grace,  while  we 
are  unmindful  of  his  glory. 

Angels  may  look  down  with  wonder  on  the  as- 
piring pretensions  and  low  deserts  of  men,  marvel- 
ling at  our  inconsistency.  Do  we  not  trust  the 
weakness  of  a  spider's  thread,  and  doubt  the  strength 
of  a  cable  ?  Do  we  not  let  go  a  substantial  good, 
and  grasp  at  a  fleeting  shadow  ?  and,  rely  on  the 
opinions  of  our  fellow-men,  while  we  call  in  ques- 
tion the  truth  of  the  word  of  God  ? 

In  short,  what  shall  we  say  of  our  own  folly  and 
inconsistency?  for  we  prepare  to  reap  where  we 
have  not  sown  ;  prefer  temporal  honours  to  an  eter- 
nal crown ;  and  bind  ourselves  to  the  earth  while 
we  are  looking  for  heaven  ! 


13 


THE  HILL  GOOD  HOPE. 

Did  you  never,  after  toiling  up  a  steep  hill,  sit 
yourself  down,  or  stand  still  for  a  season,  to  take 
breath,  and  to  look  around  you?  No  doubt  you 
have,  and  it  is  just  the  same  with  the  pilgrim  Zion- 
bound.  He  trudges  on  through  brake  and  brier, 
mud  and  mire,  over  hard  rock  or  stony  ground,  as 
the  case  may  be,  toiling  and  panting;  but  when 
once  he  arrives  at  the  top  of  the  pleasant  hill  called 
Good  Hope,  he  makes  a  stand. 

This  eminence  is  not  a  pile  of  rubbish  of  his  own 
scraping  together,  but  one  of  the  King  of  Zion's 
own  hills ;  and  standing,  as  it  does,  right  in  the 
highway  in  which  he  trusts  to  travel  till  he  enters 
the  golden  city  with  the  jasper  walls,  why  he  feels 
disposed  to  lay  down  his  staff,  to  rest  himself  for  a 
season,  and  enjoy  the  goodly  prospect  before  him. 

There  is  many  a  rising  ground  in  a  pilgrim's 
path,  where  he  gets  a  breath  of  pure  air,  and  a 
glance  at  goodly  objects ;  but  he  never  can  be  in 
good  spirits  till  he  stands  on  the  top  of  the  hill  Good 
Hope.  The  Garden  of  Gethscmane,  and  the 
Mount  of  Olives,  and  the  Hill  of  Calvary,  are  all 
seen  from  this  place,  as  well  as  the  spot  where  the 
angel  rolled  back  the  stone  from  the  door  of  the 
sepulchre.     A  glance  may  be  had,  too,  of  the  peace- 


THE   HILL   GOOD    HOPE.  147 

ful  valley  where  David  composed  that  sweet  psalm, 
a  The  Lord  is  my  shepherd  ;  I  shall  not  want.  He 
maketh  me  to  lie  down  in  green  pastures  ;  he  lead- 
eth  me  beside  the  still  waters,"  Psa.  xxiii.  1,  2;  and 
the  city  of  cities,  whose  walls  have  twelve  founda- 
tions, is  seen  in  the  distance. 

The  heat  and  burden  of  the  day  are  yet  to  be 
borne.  Many  a  battle  is  to  be  fought,  and  many  a 
victory  is  to  be  won ;  but  the  pilgrim  is  so  much 
comforted  by  his  temporary  rest,  and  the  fresh  air, 
and  the  goodly  prospects  from  the  hill  Good  Hope, 
that  he  enters  again  on  his  pilgrimage,  feeling  like 
a  giant  refreshed :  taking  up  his  staff  he  journeys 
on,  singing  the  song  of  Moses  of  old :  "  The  Lord 
is  my  strength  and  song,  and  he  is  become  my  sal- 
vation," Exod.  xv.  2. 


KINDNESS. 

In  a  world  wherein  even  the  heirs  of  eternal  life 
have  so  much  of  tribulation  to  endure,  how  desirable 
is  a  spirit  of  kindness,  to  relieve,  to  support,  and  to 
assist  each  other  in  our  pilgrimage  to  heaven. 
There  are  few  hearts  so  hard,  few  spirits  so  churl- 
ish, as  not  to  be  affected  by  kindness.     A  kind 


148  KINDNESS. 

thought  is  influential,  a  kind  word  is  encouraging, 
and  a  kind  deed  is  at  all  times  a  blessing. 

Many  years  ago,  I  spoke  a  few  kind  words  to  a 
young  woman  who  was  in  ill  health.  The  words 
were  but  few  ;  but  though  years  rolled  along,  they 
were  never  forgotten.  The  poor  girl  remembered 
them  3  and,  when  stretched  on  her  deathbed,  she  ex- 
pressed an  earnest  desire  to  see  me.  I  went  direct- 
ly ;  when  she  told  me,  that  the  words  I  had  spoken 
to  her  when  unwell,  many  years  ago,  had  led  her  to 
believe  that  I  would  not  be  unwilling  to  render  her 
a  deed  of  kindness  in  her  dying  hour. 

The  young  woman  was  looking  forward  to  an 
eternal  world,  with  a  mind  rightly  directed  to  the 
Friend  of  the  contrite  in  heart,  who  can  support 
those  who  trust  in  Him,  in  death  as  well  as  in  life. 
But  one  thing  lay  heavy  on  her  mind  :  she  had  for 
some  time  been  at  variance  with  a  friend  who  had 
judged  her  unjustly,  and  treated  her  hardly.  This 
had  led  her  to  unkindly  feelings.  To  forgive  and 
be  forgiven,  and  to  die  in  peace  with  her  estranged 
friend  was  the  desire  of  her  soul.  I  think  that  I 
was  eloquent  in  pleading  her  cause,  for  I  brought 
her  erring  friend  a  contrite  penitent  to  her  dying 
bed.  They  wept,  they  prayed,  they  forgave  each 
other  ;  they  read  the  words  of  God  together  ;  and, 
in  a  few  days,  with  a  mind  impressed  with  a  sense 
of  God's  abundant  mercy  in  Christ  Jesus  towards 
her,  the  young  woman  died  in  the  presence  of  her 
reconciled  friend,  calmly  and  confidently  committing 


KINDNESS.  149 

her  spirit  into  the  hands  of  her  Redeemer.  I  saw 
her  dust  committed  to  the  ground,  and  never  have  I 
passed  her  grave  without  calling  to  remembrance 
the  exhortation,  "  Be  kindly  affectioned  one  to  an- 
other !"  Rom.  xii.  10. 

How  many  a  life  has  been  beclouded !  how  many 
a  death  has  been  rendered  unhappy  by  unkindness  ! 
If  we  hope  for  mercy,  we  should  show  mercy.  If 
we  have  received  kindness,  we  should  render  kind- 
ness to  others.  Let  us  take  a  review  of  our  past 
lives,  and  see  if  there  have  been  no  unkind  words  on 
our  part  that  we  can  recall?  no  unkind  deeds  for 
which  we  can  atone  %  We  ought,  unquestionably, 
to  live  in  peace  with  God,  and  in  charity  with  all 
mankind ;  and  if  we  think  aright  of  the  amazing 
grace  of  the  Redeemer,  in  pardoning  our  manifold 
offences,  we  shall  be  desirous  to  obey  his  merciful 
exhortation,  "  Love  your  enemies,  bless  them  that 
curse  you,  do  good  to  them  that  hate  you,  and  pray 
for  them  which  despitefully  use  you,  and  persecute 
you,"  Matt.  v.  44,  bearing  in  mind  the  affectionate 
ejaculation,  ':Be  kindly  affectioned  one  to  another." 


SUBMISSION. 

I  remember  hearing  of  a  dear  lover  of  booksr 
who  had  his  library  burned  down  to  the  ground. 
When  his  friends  expressed  their  surprise  that  he 
should  bear  his  loss  with  so  much  calmness,  his 
reply  was,  "  I  must  have  learned  but  little  from  my 
books  if  it  has  not  taught  me  to  endure  the  loss  of 
them." 

I  remember  hearing  of  another  who  had  reason 
to  expect  that  his  dying  brother  would  leave  him  a 
large  fortune.  "  Your  brother  is  dead,"  said  the 
executor,  u  but  he  has  not  left  you  a  single  sixpence 
of  his  property."  "If  God  had  not  known  that  I 
could  do  better  without  it  than  with  it,"  was  the  re- 
ply, "  I  should  have  had  it  every  penny.  It  might 
have  given  me  many  enjoyments  on  earth,  but  it 
would  surely  have  hampered  me  on  my  way  to 
heaven :  I  thank  my  heavenly  Father  for  ridding 
me  of  the  burden." 

I  remember,  also,  hearing  of  a  third  who,  when 
told  that  his  enemies  had  taken  away  his  oxen,  his 
asses,  and  his  camels ;  that  fire  had  fallen  from  hea- 
ven and  consumed  his  sheep  ;  that  his  servants  had 
been  slain  with  the  edge  of  the  sword  ,  and  that  a 
great  wind  had  blown  down  a  house  on  the  heads 
of  his  children,  and  killed  them — replied,    "  The 


SUBMISSION.  151 

Lord  gave,  and  the  Lord  hath  taken  away  ;  blessed 
be  the  name  of  the  Lord." 

Now  what  is  the  use  of  hearing  about  such  in- 
stances of  submission  to  the  will  of  God,  if  they  leave 
us  as  impatient  under  troubles,  and  as  repining  un- 
der losses  as  they  find  us  ?  These  things  should  be 
as  medicine  to  our  minds,  oil  to  our  joints,  and  mar- 
row to  our  bones.  Oh  for  the  spirit  of  some  who 
have  gone  before  us,  who  have  borne  affliction  with- 
out murmuring,  taken  joyfully  the  spoiling  of  their 
goods,  endured  meekly  and  patiently  the  bitterness 
of  persecution,  even  to  death,  and  accounted  all 
things  but  loss  in  comparison  with  the  excellency  of 
the  knowledge  of  Jesus  Christ. 


REST. 

"  I  have  had  no  rest  now,"  said  an  aged  and  af- 
flicted servant  of  God,  "  for  nine  days.  I  have  had 
no  rest,"  said  she,  "  night  or  day ;  and  I  long  for 
rest :  yea,  I  long  to  enter  into  that  rest  which  re- 
maineth  for  the  people  of  God." 

As  I  knew  that  her  mouth  was  usually  filled  with 
praises,  for  she  was  one  of  those  cheerful  Christians 
who  are  always  singing  of  mercy,  I  could  not  but 


152  REST. 

enter  deeply  into  her  affliction,  and  this  led  me  to 
ponder  afterwards  on  the  blessing  of  rest. 

If  we  valued  our  common  mercies  more  than  we 
do,  we  should  love  God  better  than  we  do  ;  and  the 
grace  of  our  Redeemer  would  be  more  abundantlv 
acknowledged  in  our  lives  and  conversation.  If  the 
value  of  food  is  taught  us  by  our  feeling  the  want  of 
it,  and  the  value  of  clothing  increased  by  our  not  be- 
ing able  to  procure  it,  how  grateful  are  we  for  food 
and  raiment !  If  the  air  which  we  breathe,  and  the 
water  that  we  drink,  become  tainted,  how  grateful 
are  we  for  fresh  air,  and  pure  water  !  As  it  is  with 
other  mercies,  so  is  it  with  the  blessing  of  rest. 
When  labouring  under  anxiety  of  mind,  or  pain  of 
body,  we  vainly  strive  in  the  night  season  to  slum- 
ber :  when  we  watch  in  disquietude,  and  water  our 
couch  with  our  tears,  oh  how  earnestly  we  desire  to 
partake  of  rest ! 

I  remember  that  a  man  died,  in  the  days  of  my 
youth,  who  had  the  character  of  being  a  very  wick- 
ed man:  several  of  his  neighbours  attended  him 
during  his  sickness,  until,  at  last,  there  were  few 
who  dared  to  remain  by  his  bedside.  The  cottage 
in  which  he  dwelt  stood  on  a  lonely  common  ;  and 
the  wretched  man  used  to  start  up  in  bed  at  night, 
and  point  in  a  hurried  manner  to  different  parts  of 
his  room,  where  he  said  the  wicked  one  was  wait- 
ing for  him.  Many  fearful  nights  were  passed  in 
this  manner,  without  his  closing  his  eyes  in  slum- 
ber.    After  his  death,  I  heard  those  who  attended 


REST.  153 

him  talking  together  of  his  terrors :  they  described 
his  afflictions  as  being  very  heavy  ;  but  what  im- 
pressed'my  mind  more  than  any  thing  else  which 
they  said  was,  that  "  the  miserable  man  could  never 
get  any  rest." 

What  would  not  that  wretched  being  have  given 
for  one  hour  of  the  peaceful  slumber  that  we  so 
commonly  enjoy  !  If  we  enjoy  the  blessing  of  rest 
and  peace  through  the  hours  of  darkness,  and  have 
never  offered  up  thanks  and  praises  in  an  especial 
manner  for  these  mercies,  it  is  time  to  offer  them  up 
now. 

Who  is  there  who  would  give  up  his  peaceful 
slumbers  to  possess  the  wealth  of  the  world  ?  Alas ! 
whatever  a  man  may  possess,  though  gold  and  sil- 
ver fill  up  his  chests,  though  he  possess  every  earthly- 
enjoyment,  that  man  must  still  be  wretched  indeed 
who  has  not  rest. 

Let  us  think  of  these  things,  that  we  may  be 
grateful  together  for  the  rest  appointed  to  us  on 
earth :  and  earnestly  pray  that  our  hearts  may  be 
made  willing  to  accept  the  merciful  and  gracious 
invitation  of  our  compassionate  Saviour  Jesus  Christ, 
"  Come  unto  me,  all  ye  that  labour  and  are  heavy 
laden,  and  I  will  give  you  rest"  Matt.  xi.  28. 


BRINKBURN  PRIORY. 

Brinkburn  Priory,  in  Northumberland,  dedicated 
to  St.  Peter,  was  founded  in  the  reign  of  Henry  I., 
by  William  de  Bertram,  Baron  of  Mitform,  who 
established  there  Black  Canons,  or  Canons  Regular 
of  the  order  of  St.  Augustine.  The  baron  endowed 
the  priory  with  lands  out  of  his  wastes.  Now  tra- 
dition tells  us  that,  on  a  certain  occasion,  a  Scottish 
army  which  had  made  an  incursion  or  inroad  into 
England,  in  returning  homeward  passed  near  to 
Brinkburn  without  observing  the  priory.  The 
monks  congratulating  each  other  in  having  escaped 
that  pillage  with  which  the  neighbourhood  had  been 
visited,  in  their  excess  of  joy,  set  about  ringing  the 
bells.  This  imprudence  proved  to  them  an  unfortu- 
nate affair  ;  for  the  Scots,  not  being  out  of  hearing, 
immediately  turned  back  and  plundered  the  place. 

As  the  chemist  extracts  medicinal  properties  from 
the  varied  plants  that  nourish  around  him,  so  a  wise 
man  endeavours  to  gain  profit  from  the  varied  events 
which  become  known  to  him.  What  think  you  of 
the  conduct  of  the  monks  of  Brinkburn  Priory? 
Do  not  their  infirmities  remind  you  of  your  own  ? 
Have  you  never  cried  out  too  hastily,  thinking  that 
you  had  escaped  a  dangerous  temptation,  or  over- 
come a  besetting  sin ;  bringing  upon  you  by  your 


BRINKBURN    PRIORY.  155 

unguarded  security,  and  untimely  and  imprudent 
exultation,  the  very  evil  which  had  almost  passed 
by? 

Whether  this  is  your  case  or  not,  with  sorrow 
and  shame  I  confess  it  to  be  mine.  Again  and  again, 
like  the  Brinkburn  monks,  have  I  proudly  rejoiced 
in  deliverance  from  faults  and  infirmities,  and  again 
and  again  has  the  enemy  come  in  like  a  flood,  over- 
whelming me  with  confusion,  and  leaving  me  in 
the  deep  wraters  of  trouble  and  despondency.  Say 
what  we  may,  do  what  we  will,  there  is  no  safety 
but  in  dependence  on  God,  and  lowliness  of  mind. 
It  would  do  us  no  harm  to  repeat  every  day  in  the 
year,  and  every  hour  in  the  day,  that  too  neglected 
text,  "  God  resisteth  the  proud,  but  giveth  grace  unto 
the  humble,"  James  iv.  6. 


ARE  YOU  READY  ? 

The  gates  of  the  burial-ground  of  Bunhill-nelds 
were  open ;  a  hearse  and  four  hoi"  es  stood  near, 
with  a  long  line  of  mourning  coaches,  and  a  coffin, 
covered  with  a  pall,  was  conveyed  to  the  silent 
tomb.  As  the  mournful  procession  moved  slowly 
through  the  gateway,  the  passer-by  was  obliged 


156  ARE   YOU   READY. 

either  to  cross  the  street,  or  to  wait  till  the  mourners 
had  entered  the  burial-ground.  At  this  moment,  a 
working-man,  with  a  paper  cap  on  his  head,  in  cross- 
ing the  street,  accosted  a  companion  whom  he  met 
with  the  words,  "  Are  you  ready  ?"  As  he  spoke, 
he  turned  a  significant  glance  on  the  funeral  proces- 
sion, and  gave  a  shrug  with  his  shoulder,  by  which 
I  understood  he  meant  to  inquire  if  his  companion 
was  ready  to  be  carried  to  the  grave.  The  question 
was  put  in  a  lightheated,  thoughtless  spirit ;  and  his 
companion  replied,  "  Not  yet !"  The  question  and 
the  reply  occupied  my  reflections  for  some  time  af- 
ter ;  and  I  thought  to  myself,  How  many  there  are 
among  us,  were  the  same  inquiry  to  be  made,  who 
would  answer,  "  Not  yet !" 

I  well  knew  a  minister,  a  man  of  unusual  talents, 
and  of  great  integrity,  who,  after  preaching  the  gos- 
pel more  than  thirty  years  to  a  large  congregation, 
met  with  a  serious  accident,  which  placed  his  life  in 
danger.  He  thought  that  he  was  about  to  enter 
into  an  eternal  world,  but,  alas !  he  was  not  ready  ! 
I  heard  him  declare  from  the  pulpit,  with  great  hu- 
mility, this  fact.  "  Yes,"  said  he,  "  often  as  I  have 
urged  you  to  prepare  for  death,  I  acknowledge  with 
shame  that  J  was  not  ready  /" 

Are  you  ready  ?  is  a  heart-searching  question ; 
for  no  one  can  be  ready  to  leave  this  world  until  he 
has  a  well-founded  hope  of  a  better,  a  hope  that  rests 
on  Christ,  and  on  Christ  alone.     Are  you  ready  ? 


THE  ROBIN  AND  THE  SPARROW. 

Whether,  O  Lord,  we  gaze  around 

On  earth,  or  air,  or  sea ; 
Some  proof  of  love  may  still  be  found, 

To  lead  our  hearts  to  thee. 

Many  years  ago,  a  robin  built  her  nest  among 
the  pipes  in  the  middle  of  an  organ,  in  the  orchestra 
of  a  public  garden.  The  organ  was  played  upon 
many  hours  in  the  course  of  each  day  by  different 
persons  who  visited  the  gardens,  as  well  as  on  pub- 
lic nights,  but  the  little  trembler  deserted  not  her 
nest.  I  saw  her  repeatedly,  with  distended  breast, 
sitting  over  her  eggs  when  the  full  power  of  the  or- 
gan was  called  forth,  joined  with  the  voices  of  pub- 
lic singers  ;  but,  faithful  to  her  trust,  she  maintained 
her  position,  and  the  clamour  was  ineffectual  to 
drive  her  from  her  charge. 

Is  there  nothing,  Christian,  to  be  learned  from 
the  poor  bird?  Hast  not  thou,  also,  something 
committed  to  thy  care,  which  it  behooves  thee  never 
to  forsake  ?  If  God  has  been  gracious  to  thee,  if 
thou  hast  the  hope  of  eternal  life  through  the  merits 
of  thy  Redeemer,  does  it  not  become  thee  to  hold 
fast  thy  profession  in  godly  sincerity  ?  to  bear  the 
clamour  and  resist  the  temptations  of  the  world,  and 
to  endure  to  the  end  ?  Let  the  red-breasted  bird  re- 
14 


158  THE   ROBIN    AND   THE    SPARROW. 

mind  thee  of  thy  mercies,  and  strengthen  thy  desire 
to  retain  them. 

A  sparrow  built  her  nest  inside  a  pump,  that 
stood  in  my  father's  garden :  the  iron-rod  commu- 
nicating with  the  bucket  passed  through  the  centre 
of  the  nest.  Some  of  the  eggs  were  broken  before 
the  nest  was  discovered,  the  others  were  hatched. 
It  was  a  novel  sight,  when  the  top  of  the  pump  was 
removed,  to  see  the  little  prisoners  huddled  together 
in  their  gloomy  abode.  One  or  two  of  the  young- 
ones  were  crushed  by  the  working  of  the  pump-rod; 
the  remainder,  surrounded  by  difficulty,  danger,  and 
death,  were  not  abandoned  by  the  parent  bird,  but  at 
last,  winged  their  way  to  fairer  prospects. 

Have  not  Christians,  also,  a  Parent,  a  heavenly 
Parent,  who  will  not  forsake  them  in  tribulation, 
danger,  and  death  ?  God  is  faithful  to  his  people, 
and  what  he  has  promised,  he  is  able  to  perform, 
Rom.  iv.  21.  "Fear  ye  not,  therefore,  ye  are  of 
more  value  than  manv  snarrows,"  Matt.  x.  31. 


THE  SWALLOWED  BIBLE. 

In  the  days  of  my  boyhood,  my  father  told  me 
that  he  knew  an  old  man  who  had  swallowed  a  B> 


THE    SWALLOWED    BIELE.  159 

ble.  This  greatly  excited  my  astonishment,  and  I 
wondered  how  it  could  be.  My  father,  who  had  an 
object  in  view  in  keeping  me  in  ignorance  of  what 
he  meant,  never  explained  the  matter  to  me  ;  but 
went  with  me,  some  time  afterwards,  to  call  upon 
the  old  man.  Many  a  thoughtless  prodigal  has 
been  cut  off  since  then,  and  many  a  pardoned  sinner 
entered  into  the  rest  that  remaineth  for  the  people 
of  God ;  yet  do  I  remember  it  as  well  as  though  it 
happened  but  yesterday.  Oh  how  graciously  did 
texts  of  Divine  truth  fall  from  the  lips  of  that  aged 
servant  of  Christ ;  for  the  Holy  Scriptures  dwelt  in 
him  richly  in  all  wisdom ;  his  Bible  seemed  to  be  a 
mine  of  illimitable  value,  a  storehouse  of  precious 
things,  and  he  drew  them  forth  liberally,  like  one 
who  draws  water  from  a  well  that  he  believes  to  be 
inexhaustible. 

As  we  came  away,  my  father  said  to  me,  "  Well, 
and  what  do  you  think  of  this  man  having  swal- 
lowed a  Bible"?"  "  Think,  father  !"  said  I,  "  why 
I  think  that  he  has  indeed  swallowed  a  Bible  ;  for 
the  word  of  God  seems  like  meat  and  drink  to  him." 

Oh  that  the  blessed  book  of  truth  were  meat  and 
drink  to  us  all !  Oh  that  we  had  all  swallowed  a 
Bible,  for  then  should  we  find  it,  not  bitter  like  the 
little  book  eaten  by  John  in  the  Revelation,  but 
sweeter  than  honey  and  the  honey-comb. 


AN  ENEMY. 

Whether  you  are  a  poor  man,  or  a  poor  wo- 
man, getting  your  bread  by  the  sweat  of  your  brow, 
or  aged  and  infirm  living  in  a  cottage,  let  me  re- 
mind you  that  you  have  an  enemy  ! 

Be  upon  your  guard ;  for  unless  you  are  so  every 
moment  of  your  time,  depend  upon  it,  he  will  do 
you  an  injury. 

This  enemy  is  not  in  another  country,  nor  at  a 
distance  from  you ;  he  does  not  live  in  one  place 
while  you  dwell  in  another.  He  is  in  the  same 
dwelling,  occupies  the  same  chamber,  and  is  indeed 
your  most  intimate  acquaintance. 

If  he  would  attack  you  openly,  you  might  resist 
him  in  many  ways,  you  might  ask  others  to  assist 
you,  or  you  might  get  out  of  his  way ,  but  these 
things  you  cannot  do ;  for,  though  he  is  such  an 
enemy,  he  contrives  to  persuade  you  that  he  is  your 
best  friend!  He  has  abused  the  confidence  you 
have  put  in  him.  He  has  led  you  into  evil,  he  has 
deceived  you,  he  has  robbed  you,  and  placed  poison 
in  your  basket  and  in  your  store.  In  short,  there  is 
hardly  any  bad  deed  which  he  has  not,  at  one  time 
or  other,  either  done,  or  persuaded  you  to  do. 

Now  this  enemy  is,  as  I  said  before,  the  nearest 
acquaintance  that  you  have.     It  is  not  your  fatherr 


AN   ENEMY.  161 

nor  your  mother,  nor  your  sister,  nor  your  brother, 
but  a  part  of  yourself — It  is  your  own  heart. 

Think  for  a  moment  of  the  deceit  this  enemy  has 
practised  against  you.  He  has  persuaded  you  to 
disobey  God's  will,  that  you  might  indulge  in  your 
own  ;  to  seek  for  happiness  in  sin,  which  never  yet 
failed  to  produce  sorrow  ;  to  set  your  affections  on  a 
poor  perishing  world  that  is  passing  away,  and  leave 
unsought  that  eternal  inheritance  which  is  in  hea- 
ven. Truly,  "  the  heart  is  deceitful  above  all  things, 
and  desperately  wicked :  who  can  know  it  ?"  Jer. 
xvii.  9. 

Think  how  this  enemy  has  robbed  you  of  your 
peace  of  mind,  by  prevailing  on  you  to  commit  ini- 
quity ;  for  sinners  are  always  unhappy.  "  The 
wicked  are  like  the  troubled  sea,  when  it  cannot 
rest,  whose  waters  cast  up  mire  and  dirt.  There  is 
no  peace,  saith  my  God,  to  the  wicked,"  Isa.  lvii. 
20,21. 

Think  how  he  has  poisoned  your  enjoyments,  by 
depriving  you  of  the  comfort  of  God's  promises  in 
Christ  Jesus,  by  bringing  you  into  a  state  of  con- 
demnation ;  for  "  the  soul  that  sinneth,  it  shall  die," 
Ezek.  xviii.  4.  How  many  fears  and  forebodings 
has  he  brought  upon  you  of  God's  displeasure  and 
eternal  wrath  !  If  you  have  never  thought  on  these 
things,  think  of  them  now. 

Should  you  be  in  doubt,  whether  the  heart  is  so 
wicked  as  I  have  represented  it  to  be,  hear  what  the 
word  of  God  says  about  it,  that  word  which  cannot 
14* 


162  AN   ENEMY. 

lie :  "  From  within,  out  of  the  heart  of  men,  pro- 
ceed evil  thoughts,  adulteries,  fornications,  murdersf 
thefts,  covetousness,  wickedness,  deceit,  lascivious- 
ness,  an  evil  eye,  blasphemy,  pride,  foolishness :  all 
these  evil  things  come  from  within,  and  defile  the 
man,"  Mark  vii.  21 — 23. 

This  picture,  frightful  as  it  is,  is  faithfully  drawn, 
and  is,  indeed,  enough  to  terrify  any  one  who  looks 
upon  it. 

And  can  you,  after  all  this,  consider  your  heart 
as  a  friend,  unless  it  be  changed  ?  If  you  can,  you 
must  be  content  to  endure  all  the  miseries  it  will 
bring  upon  you.  "  Be  sure  your  sin  will  find  you 
out,"  Num.  xxxii.  23. 

But  if  you  are  convinced  that  your  heart  is  evilr 
and  not  to  be  trusted,  (he  that  trusteth  his  heart  is  a 
fool,)  why  then  hasten  to  Him  who  alone  can  re- 
strain the  unruly  wills  and  affections  of  sinful  men. 
Go  unto  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  the  sinner's  Friend,, 
and  pray,  "  Create  in  me  a  clean  heart,  O  God ; 
and  renew  a  right  spirit  within  me,"  Psa.  li.  10, 
and  be  assured  that  your  prayer  will  be  heard. 
God  has  promised  to  those  who  seek  his  grace,  "  A 
new  heart  also  will  I  give  you,  and  a  new  spirit 
will  I  put  within  you ;  and  I  will  take  away  the 
stony  heart  out  of  your  flesh,  and  I  will  give  you 
an  heart  of  flesh,"  Ezek.  xxxvi.  26.  This  is  the 
promise  of  God,  and  not  a  jot  or  tittle  of  his  prom- 
ises shall  fail ;  for  they  are  yea  and  amen  in  Jesua 
Christ. 


THE  HAPPY  CHILDREN. 

There  are  moments  when  the  most  buoyant 
hearts,  the  most  elastic  spirits,  are  bowed  down,  and 
it  was  so  with  me  yesterday,  when  I  walked  abroad. 
The  sun  shone,  and  we  all  love  sunshine,  the  wind 
blew,  and  I  delight  in  a  high  wind,  yet  still  I  began 
to  be  cumbered  with  many  cares,  and  my  heart 
sank  within  me. 

As  I  continued  my  walk,  brooding  on  trifling 
vexations  and  imaginary  evils,  I  came  suddenly  to  a 
turn  in  the  lane,  where  two  ragged  lads  were  amus- 
ing themselves  ;  the  one  swinging  the  other  to  and 
fro  on  a  gate.  They  were  both  of  them  highly 
delighted,  and  the  one  on  the  gate  at  least  was  as 
happy  as  a  king. 

He  sat  on  the  topmost  bar,  holding  it  with  his 
hands,  while  his  toes  were  tucked  in  between  two 
of  the  bars  below  him,  that  he  might  not  fall.  His 
face  was  unwashed,  and  his  hair  uncombed ;  his 
stockingless  feet  came  through  his  shoes,  and  his 
ragged  raiment  fluttered  to  and  fro  in  the  wind :  but 
these  things  troubled  him  not ;  for  every  time  the 
rattling  gate  was  banged  against  the  gatepost,  he 
burst  into  a  roar  of  laughter. 

"  Oh,"  thought  I,  "  and  can  happy-hearted  child- 
hood, with  scanty  blessings,  revel  in  mirth,  and  in- 


164  THE   HAPPY    CHILDREN. 

dulge  wildly  in  unrestrained  merriment,  and  age, 
surrounded  with  unnumbered  mercies,  give  way  to 
repining  and  despondency'?  Shame,  shame  upon 
me !"  Again  1  looked  at  the  young  rogues  at  their 
pastime,  and  heard  the  wild  laugh  of  the  happy  ur- 
chin exalted  on  the  gate.  The  sunshine  that  beamed 
on  my  head  seemed  to  enter  into  my  heart ;  the 
wind  that  blew  around  me  raised  my  spirit,  and  I 
began  to  sing  of  mercy.  "  O  come,  let  us  sing  unto 
the  Lord :  let  us  make  a  joyful  noise  to  the  rock  of 
our  salvation.  Let  us  come  before  his  presence 
with  thanksgiving,  and  make  a  joyful  noise  unto 
him  with  psalms,"  Psa.  xcv.  1,  2. 


THE  WANDERER 
WITHOUT  A  GUIDE. 

I  have  just  been  reading  of  one  who  climbed  the 
Cheviot  Hills,  taking  a  guide  with  him  to  direct 
him  the  road.  No  sooner  had  he  gained  the  sum- 
mit, than  finding  the  prospect  fair,  and  desiring  to 
be  at  perfect  liberty,  he  sent  away  his  guide.  Alas  ! 
for  a  thick  mist  soon  came  on,  and  though  he  had 
found  his  way  up  the  hills  with  a  guide,  he  could  not 


THE   WANDERER   WITHOUT   A   GUIDE.  165 

find  his  way  down  the  hills  without  one ;  so  that 
midnight  found  him  wandering  alone  and  in  dark- 
ness, bewailing  his  folly. 

I  am  afraid  that  our  Cheviot  friend  is  not  the  only 
one,  by  a  great  number,  that  has  fallen  into  this 
mistake.  Many — and  my  mind  sadly  misgives  me, 
that  he  who  is  now  noting  down  this  remark  is 
among  them — many  are  more  fond  of  guiding 
others,  than  of  being  guided  themselves.  Where 
there  is  one  of  us  deceived  by  a  too  humble  estimate 
of  his  acquirements,  there  are  ten  led  astray  by  a 
proud  opinion  of  their  qualifications. 

If  it  was  unwise  to  wander  alone  on  the  Cheviot 
Hills,  having  no  guide  at  hand  in  case  of  difficulty 
or  danger,  how  foolish  will  it  be  in  the  Christian  to 
dispense  with  his  guide  in  crossing  the  hills  and  the 
valleys  which  lie  between  him  and  the  end  of  his 
pilgrimage !  What  are  the  mists  of  the  Cheviot 
Hills  compared  with  the  obscurity  that  ever  and 
anon  awaits  him  %  There  are  bogs  and  quagmires, 
brakes  and  briers,  quicksands  and  miry  sloughs, 
stumbling-blocks,  and  horrible  pits  in  his  path,  that, 
without  a  guide,  he  can  hardly  hope  to  escape. 
Christian  pilgrim,  is  the  map  of  the  road  in  thine 
hand  ?  Is  the  Book  of  books  read  by  thee  with  a 
desire  for  instruction,  and  consulted  by  thee  in  every 
emergency,  with  humility,  prayer,  hope,  faith,  and 
confidence  ?  Cast  not  from  thee  this  guide  of  thy 
youth  and  thy  age ;  so  shalt  thou  be  led  safely 
through  the  mists  which  rise  around  thee ;  so  shall 


166  THE   WANDERER   WITHOUT   A   GUIDE. 

the  crooked  ways  of  thy  pathway  be  made  straight, 
and  the  rough  places  plain. 


THE  OAK. 


"  Do  you  not  think,"  said  a  friend  to  me,  "  that 
the  oak  yonder,  is  a  very  fine  one  ?"  I  thought  it 
was.  "  And  do  you  not  think  that  the  trunk  is  very 
sound?"  I  certainly  believed  it  to  be  so  ;  but  what 
was  my  surprise,  when  I  went  up  close  to  the  tree, 
and  looking  on  the  other  side,  found  out  my  mis- 
take. 

Though  the  oak  was  fair  to  the  eye  on  one  side, 
and  put  forth  goodly  branches  and  abundance  of  fo- 
liage, yet  on  the  other,  it  was  altogether  decayed 
away.  It  was  not  merely  hollow,  but  the  whole 
side  of  the  tree  was  gone,  bark  and  stem,  and  even 
the  inside  of  the  part  that  looked  well  was  like 
touchwood,  with  thousands  of  small  round  holes 
made  by  insects  and  worms,  so  that  it  seemed  as  if 
it  had  been  pierced  with  shot  in  all  directions. 
Many  a  decayed  tree  have  I  seen  in  the  course  of 
my  life,  but  never  one  which  so  much  deceived  me 
as  this  gnarled  oak. 


THE   OAK.  167 

We  stood  looking  at  the  tree  for  some  time,  as  it 
seemed  to  set  forth  a  useful  lesson.  There  it  was, 
with  its  best  side  towards  the  foot-path.  It  looked 
fresh  and  green ;  it  put  forth  its  leaves,  it  bore 
acorns,  and  oak-balls,  and  yet  it  had  no  heart :  it 
was  rotten  at  the  core. 

Most  likely  the  gnarled  oak  has  deceived  hun- 
dreds of  people ;  for  the  passer-by  would  hardly 
suspect  that  so  good-looking  a  tree  would  turn  out 
to  be  so  greatly  decayed  and  perished.  How  is  it 
with  you  ?  Have  you  been  a  deceiver  ?  It  is  pos- 
sible that  you  have  deceived  others,  and  yourself 
too  ;  but  it  is  not  possible  for  you  to  have  deceived 
God. 

The  gnarled  oak,  fair  and  nourishing  as  it  now 
appears,  is  not  likely  to  stand  many  years  longer, 
for  it  has  no  heart.  Its  branches  will  decay,  so  that 
neither  oak-ball,  nor  acorn,  nor  green  leaves  will 
be  seen  upon  them,  and  then  perhaps,  will  the  owner 
of  the  tree  say,  "  That  old,  heartless  oak  no  longer 
affords  shade  and  shelter  to  the  sheep  and  cattle,  nor 
does  it  look  pleasant  to  the  eye  ;  it  must  be  felled." 
"  Cut  it  down  ;  why  cumbereth  it  the  ground  ?" 

And  is  there  no  danger  of  the  same  sentence 
being  passed  upon  you,  if  you  have  no  heart  to 
love  God  ?  Did  you  never  read  the  words,  "  The 
soul  that  sinneth,  it  shall  die  ?"  Ezek.  xviii.  4. 
Surely  you  must  have  both  heard  and  read  them. 
Hasten,  then,  as  a  sinner,  to  the  Saviour  of  sinners, 
that  when  the  trees  of  the  field  shall  be  no  more 


168  THE   OAK. 

seen,  you  may  nourish  as  a  cedar  in  the  paradise  of 
God. 

The  Saviour  is  willing  to  receive  you.  "  If  we 
say  that  we  have  no  sin,  we  deceive  ourselves,  and 
the  truth  is  not  in  us.  If  we  confess  our  sins, 
he  is  faithful  and  just  to  forgive  us  our  sins,  and 
to  cleanse  us  from  all  unrighteousness,"  1  John  i. 
8,9. 

You  will,  perhaps,  never  see  the  gnarled  oak 
which  I  have  described  to  you ;  but  never  mind 
that,  for  the  first  hollow  tree  that  you  meet  with 
may  remind  you  of  it,  and  then  you  may  call  to  re- 
membrance what  you  have  now  read. 


THE  OLD  PENSIONER. 

I  never  can  make  an  impression  on  sailors' 
hearts  so  readily  as  I  wish. 

Walking  near  Greenwich  one  day,  I  met  a  red- 
faced  old  tar,  who  had  taken  more  than  was  good 
for  him,  stumping  along  on  a  wooden  leg.  His 
locks  were  white,  and  he  looked  like  one  who  had 
money  in  his  pocket,  and  cared  but  little  how  freely 
he  spent  it.  As  I  came  up,  he  pulled  out  his  to- 
bacco box,  and  we  thus  talked  together. 


THE   OLD   PENSIONER.  169 

u  May-be  you'll  take  a  bit  of  'bacco  with  me  my 
old  boy !  Plenty  o'  shot  in  the  locker  yet.  Come, 
bear  a  hand  !" 

"  No,  thank  you,  I  never  chew  tobacco." 

"  Never  chew  'bacco !  More's  the  pity ;  for, 
next  to  a  glass  o'  grog,  I  take  it  to  be  one  of  the  best 
things  ashore." 

"  There  are  many  better  things  than  either  grog 
or  tobacco." 

"  May-be  you're  out  o7  your  reckoning  there ; 
but  let's  know  what  sort  of  things  they  be." 

"  Health  of  body,  peace  of  mind,  a  quiet  con- 
science, the  Bible,  and  the  hope  of  heaven." 

"Avast  there!  That's  a  lingo  I  never  learnt. 
Our  chaplain  would  a'  sailed  with  you  on  that  tack 
as  long  as  you  liked." 

"  You  have  lost  your  leg,  I  see." 

"  Ay,  and  many  a  better  ship  has  started  a  tim- 
ber ;  but  what  then  !  I  has  a  pension,  and  a  bit  o' 
'bacco  and  a  glass  o'  grog  are  a  comfort  to  me." 

"  You  may,  perhaps,  want  something  to  comfort 
you  when  grog  and  tobacco  will  be  useless.  Can 
you  read  the  Bible  ?" 

"  It  hurts  my  eye-sight,  my  hearty !  I  can't  see 
well  enough." 

"  Do  you  ever  go  any  where  to  worship  God?" 

"  Don't  you  see  that  I'm  lame  %  I've  enough 
stumping  about  as  it  is." 

"  But  can  you  hear  any  body  talk  of  heaven  and 
15 


170  THE    OLD   PENSIONER. 

hell,  without  wishing  to  go  to  the  one,  and  desiring 
to  keep  away  from  the  other  ?" 

"  I  don't  feel  afraid,  my  old  boy !  I  don't  feel 
afraid." 

"  If  you  can  neither  see,  hear,  nor  feel,  all  that  I 
can  desire  for  you  is,  that  in  God's  good  time,  you 
may  be  made  able  to  do  all  three." 

"  Well,  if  you  won't  have  no  'bacco,  we  must 
part  company.  You  and  the  old  chaplain  would 
have  cruised  rarely  together.  Sea-room,  and  a 
stiff  breeze,  and  Jack  Billings  will  get  into  port 

yet." 

Away  went  the  sailor  one  way,  while  I  proceed- 
ed the  other,  marvelling  that  "  they  that  go  down  to 
the  sea  in  ships,  that  do  business  in  great  waters," 
and  that  see  so  much  of  "  the  works  of  the  Lord, 
and  his  wonders  in  the  deep,"  should  be  so  little  af- 
fected by  the  judgments  and  mercy  of  God. 


PHILIP  OF  MACEDON. 

"  No  warrior  was  ever  bolder  or  more  intrepid 
in  the  field  than  Philip  of  Macedon.  Demosthenes, 
who  cannot  be  suspected  of  having  flattered  him, 
gives  the  following  testimony.     '  I  saw,'  says  this 


PHILIP   OF    MACEDON.  171 

orator,  '  this  very  Philip,  with  whom  we  disputed 
for  sovereignty  and  empire,  I  saw  him,  though 
covered  with  wounds,  his  eye  struck  out,  his  collar- 
bone broken,  maimed  in  his  hands  and  feet,  still 
resolutely  rush  into  the  midst  of  dangers,  and  ready 
to  deliver  up  to  fortune  any  part  of  his  body  she 
might  desire,  provided  he  might  live  honourably  and 
gloriously  with  the  rest.'  " 

Christian,  see  what  a  heathen  man  will  endure 
and  achieve  for  mortal  applause  and  earthly  fame. 
The  warriors  of  the  world  set  an  example  of  energy 
to  the  soldiers  of  Christ.  They  are  ready  to  make 
every  sacrifice,  to  endure  every  evil,  to  run  every 
risk,  jeopardizing  body  and  soul  for  the  glittering 
bubble  of  this  world's  approbation.  There  is  some 
difference  between  time  and  eternity,  earth  and  hea- 
ven, a  chaplet  of  fading  flowers  and  a  crown  of  eter- 
nal glory  ;  and  yet  they  who  follow  after  the  lesser 
advantage,  show  more  ardour,  self-denial,  and  enter- 
prise, than  those  who  pursue  the  greater. 

He  who  would  endure  hardness  as  a  good  sol- 
dier of  Jesus  Christ,  should  be  willing  to  learn  from 
friends  and  enemies,  wise  men  and  fools,  Christians 
and  heathens,  aught  that  will  quicken  his  feet, 
strengthen  his  hands,  or  animate  his  heart  in  obey- 
ing the  Captain  of  his  salvation  ;  and  this  being  the 
case,  we  may  learn  a  profitable  lesson  from  what 
has  been  said  of  Philip  of  Macedon. 


AN  UNEXPECTED  SERMON. 

Sermons  are  not  always  preached  from  the  pul- 
pit ;  for  the  other  day  I  unexpectedly  heard  a  very 
good,  though  a  homely  one  under  the  portico  of  a 
theatre  in  the  Strand  !  It  was  an  odd  place,  to  be 
sure ;  but  a  smart  shower  had  driven  me  there  for 
shelter,  and  soon  after  an  old  man  took  shelter  there 
also,  who  began  to  talk  of  the  best  things.  "  Sir," 
said  he,  "  I  am  eighty-two  years  of  age,  and  God 
has  graciously  given  me,  among  m#ny  mercies,  the 
mercy  of  being  made  sensible  of  his  goodness.  I 
remember  in  my  boyhood  hearing  an  aged  minister 
declare  from  the  pulpit,  that  when  he  was  forty 
years  old  he  considered  himself  so  good,  that  he  be- 
lieved the  temptations  of  Satan  had  no  power  over 
him ;  but  when  he  was  threescore  and  ten,  he  was 
obliged  to  confess  that  Satan  had  a  bait  for  old 
birds  still.  I  am,  Sir,  as  I  told  you,  eighty-two  ; 
and,  as  the  minister  found  at  threescore  years  and 
ten,  so  I  find  at  eighty-two,  that  I  am  a  poor,  weak, 
worthless  creature,  totally  dependent  on  God's  good- 
ness and  grace,  feeling  every  day  of  my  life  that 
Satan  has  a  bait  for  old  birds  still.u 


THE  FIT  OF  ABSTRACTION. 

It  was  on  a  sharp,  frosty  day  at  the  latter  end  of 
December,  when,  standing  up  at  the  window  to  look 
at  the  trees  powdered  over  as  they  were  with  snow, 
and  at  the  poor  half-famished  birds  that  were  ren- 
dered tame  by  the  severity  of  the  season,  that  I  gave 
way  to  a  fit  of  benevolent  abstraction.  I  will  en- 
deavor to  set  down  my  ruminations. 

"  Oh !"  thought  I,  "  that  it  were  possible  for  me 
to  do  some  kindly  deed  to  every  man,  woman,  and 
child  under  the  canopy  of  heaven !  Oh,  that  I  could 
for  once  in  my  life  make  every  eye  sparkle,  every 
pulse  throb,  and  every  heart  beat  with  delight! 
Had  I  the  power,  the  poor  should  be  made  rich,  the 
rich  more  affluent  than  they  are,  and  the  one  and 
the  other  should  have  heavenly  hopes  added  to  their 
earthly  enjoyments !" 

Now  this  was  all  very  beautiful,  and  I  no  doubt 
thought  so,  for  I  continued  my  musings  of  benevo- 
lence. 

"  How  delightful  it  would  be  to  comfort  the  af- 
flicted, to  raise  the  fallen,  to  liberate  the  captive,  to 
heal  the  sick,  to  bind  up  the  bruised  and  the  broken, 
and  to  scatter  abroad,  wide  as  the  world,  the  ele- 
ments of  peace,  comfort,  satisfaction,  happiness,  and 
delight." 

15* 


174  THE   FIT   OF   ABSTRACTION. 

If  any  thing,  this  latter  burst  of  philanthropy  was 
finer  than  the  former ;  and  most  likely,  at  the  mo- 
ment, my  countenance  brightened  up  in  contemplat- 
ing the  fair  picture  which  my  fancy  in  such  glowing 
colours  had  drawn.  But  not  yet  was  the  fountain 
of  my  good  intentions  dry,  or  the  treasure-house  of 
my  munificence  exhausted ;  for  thus  did  I  continue 
my  abstraction. 

"  Had  I  the  power  and  the  opportunity  to  bless 
mankind,  friend  and  foe  should  alike  be  the  partak- 
ers of  my  bounty  ;  misery  should  be  unknown  ;  un- 
kindness  should  be  banished  from  the  world,  and 
the  nations  of  the  earth  should  celebrate  an  unbro- 
ken jubilee  of  joy." 

By  the  time  that  I  had  arrived  at  this  exalted  cli- 
max of  philanthropy,  I  stood  tolerably  high  in  my 
own  estimation,  and  how  much  higher  I  might  have 
elevated  myself  it  would  be  hard  to  say  ;  but,  at  the 
moment,  my  opposite  neighbour  opened  his  door  to 
let  in  a  strange  cat,  which  had,  for  some  time,  been 
mewing  in  the  cold ;  he  brought  out,  too,  directly 
after,  some  broken  victuals  to  a  shivering  lad,  who 
had  undertaken  for  a  trifle  to  sweep  away  the  snow 
from  his  door,  and  scattered  a  liberal  handful  of 
crumbs  around  for  the  benefit  of  the  poor  birds. 

With  shame  and  confusion  I  reflected  on  my  use- 
less thoughts,  and  on  my  neighbour's  deeds.  I  had 
stood  stock  still,  idly  dreaming  on  imaginary  kind- 
ness, while  he  had  really  performed  three  acts  of 
unobtrusive  charity.      When  shall  we  learn  that 


THE   FIT   OF   ABSTRACTION.  175 

benevolence  consists  not  in  thinking,  but  in  doing  ? 
A  real  penny  outweighs  an  ideal  pound,  and  a  cup 
of  cold  water  given  with  kindness  is  better  than 
rivers  of  oil  flowing  only  in  the  imagination. 


THE  COAT  OF  MANY  COLOURS. 

The  other  Sabbath  morning  I  overtook  an  aged 
man  whose  threadbare  coat  was  well  patched  with 
cloth  of  different  hues,  so  that  it  was  indeed  "  a  coat 
of  many  colours."  As  I  walked  behind  him,  mus- 
ing on  his  grey  hair,  his  bent  body,  his  humble 
mien,  and  slow  movement,  he  turned  into  a  place  of 
worship.  "  Well,"  thought  I,  "  I  took  him  for  a 
pilgrim,  and  a  pilgrim  he  is,  I  doubt  not,  to  the  city 
with  the  golden  gates.  He  appears  to  be  low  in  the 
world ;  but  there  was  one  who  wore,  if  not  a  coat 
of  the  same  kind  as  his,  at  least  a  coat  of  many  col- 
ours, who  was  brought  much  lower,  and  yet  after- 
wards was  raised  to  a  high  estate,  even  to  sit  among 
princes." 

However  much  there  may  be  to  discourage  a 
man  in  so  humble  a  garb  from  thriving  in  this 
world,  there  seems  to  be  no  impediment  in  the  way 
of  his  arriving  at  high  honour  and  dignity  in  the 


176  THE    COAT   OF    MANY    COLOURS. 

world  that  is  to  come.  Earthly  kings  may  not  covet 
his  company ;  but  if  his  heart  be  right  with  God, 
however  lowly  his  apparel  may  be,  he  shall  share 
the  glory  of  the  King  of  heaven.  It  must  comfort 
such  an  one  to  know  on  Divine  authority,  that  the 
Almighty  Ruler  of  the  skies  despiseth  not  poverty. 
He  puts  down  the  mighty  from  their  seat,  and  exalts 
them  of  low  degree.  He  fills  the  hungry  with 
good  things,  and  sends  the  rich  empty  away. 

Were  all  the  Christians  congregated  together  to 
whom  the  Saviour  of  the  world  when  on  earth 
showed  personal  kindness,  they  would  form  but  a 
motley  group,  and  would  obtain  but  little  attention, 
on  account  of  the  respectability  of  their  clothing. 
Simon  Peter's  "  fisher's  coat"  was  most  likely  of  a 
homely  fashion.  Poor  blind  Bartimeus,  who  would 
not  be  chidden  into  silence,  but  persisted  in  crying 
out,  "  Jesus,  thou  Son  of  David,  have  merey  on  me," 
was  not,  you  may  depend  upon  it,  dressed  in  very 
fashionable  attire.  I  greatly  question  if  the  cloak 
that  Paul  left  at  Troas  was  of  much  value ;  and  I 
never  could  think  of  lowly  Lazarus  as  wearing  any 
other  coat  on  the  Sabbath  day  than  that  which  he 
wore  on  every  other  day  of  the  week. 

Cheer  up,  humble-minded,  meanly-clad  Chris- 
tian. Be  content  for  awhile  to  take  the  lowest  seat : 
by  and  by  thou  shalt  hear  the  welcome  invitation  of 
thy  Lord,  "  Come  up  higher,"  when  garments  shall 
be  given  thee  pure  and  white  as  the  moon  in  her 
brightness,  and  effulgent  as  the  sun  in  his  glory. 


SUDDEN  CHANGES. 

An  old  man's  experience  will  perhaps  be  borne 
out  by  your  own  in  the  following  relation. 

How  sudden  are,  at  times,  the  changes  in  the  face 
of  creation  !  One  of  the  goodliest  days  that  I  ever 
remember  was  ushered  in  by  the  appearance  of  a 
storm.  A  sullen  stillness  prevailed,  and  the  gather- 
ing gloom  became  more  and  more  oppressive.  It 
was  a  season  that  solemnized  the  mind.  A  day  in 
which  the  burdened  spirit  might  have  given  way  to 
sadness,  and  the  desponding  soul  lamented  for  sin 
The  heavy  clouds  were  rolled  thickly  together ; 
the  low  growl  of  the  distant  thunder  seemed  the  note 
of  preparation — the  precursor  of  the  raging  storm. 
But  even  from  the  very  bosom  of  the  coal-black 
cloud  the  sunbeam  bursts  forth  ;  the  darkened  va- 
pours were  soon  after  scattered,  and  heaven  was  lit 
up  with  a  blaze  of  glory.  It  was  a  season  of  sud- 
den surprise  and  joy.  A  day  in  which  the  exulting 
heart  might  have  cried  aloud,  "  Let  young  men,  and 
maidens ;  old  men,  and  children  ;  yea,  let  every 
thing  that  hath  breath  praise  the  Lord :  for  his  name 
alone  is  excellent ;  his  glory  is  above  the  earth  and 
heaven.  Praise  ye  the  Lord,"  Psa.  cxlviii.  12,  13  j 
cl.  6. 


178  SUDDEN   CHANGES. 

How  oft  amid  the  murky  shroud 
The  sunbeam  wins  its  way, 

And  breaking  from  the  thunder  cloud, 
Proclaims  a  goodly  day. 

How  often  too,  with  waving  wings, 
When  judgments  seem  to  roll, 

Mercy  flies  kindly  forth,  and  flings 
A  sunbeam  on  the  soul. 


THE  CHURLISH  FARMER. 

Are  you  kind-hearted  or  churlish  1  This  is  a 
little  like  asking  if  you  are  a  cordial  or  a  scourge  to 
those  around  you. 

One  of  the  most  churlish  remarks  that  I  remem- 
ber to  have  ever  heard  was  made  by  a  farmer  ;  it 
was  on  a  Shrove  Tuesday.  A  servant-girl  had 
been  frying  pancakes  and  fritters  all  the  morning, 
till,  what  with  the  heat  and  the  fatigue,  she  seemed 
hardly  able  to  stand.  A  kind-hearted  visitor,  who 
happened  to  be  present,  interceded  that  the  girl 
might  have  a  little  rest.  "  Let  her  rest  in  her 
grave  /"  was  the  reply  of  the  churlish  farmer. 

This  happened  when  I  was  a  boy,  so  that  by  the 
time  I  grew  up  to  manhood,  the  churlish  farmer 
was  in  years.     With  the  wrinkled  brow  and  the 


THE  CHURLISH  FARMER.  179 

grey  hair  came  age's  infirmities,  weakness,  rheu- 
matic attacks,  loss  of  appetite  and  decrepitude.  Often 
and  often  did  I  hear  him  complain  of  weariness  and 
pain,  and  especially  that  he  could  get  no  rest ;  but 
never  do  I  remember  hearing  him  make  this  last 
observation  without  being  reminded  of  his  churlish 
remark,  "  Let  her  rest  in  her  grave  .'" 

Years  rolled  on ;  spring  and  summer,  autumn 
and  winter  passed  away.  The  farmer's  ground 
was  ploughed  and  sowed,  reaped  and  mowed ;  his 
harvests  were  safely  stowed  in  his  rickyards  and 
barns,  and  at  last  he  himself  was  gathered  into  the 
garner  of  death. 

It  seems  but  as  yesterday  when  I  attended  his  re- 
mains to  the  house  appointed  for  all  living.  When 
the  funeral  service  had  been  read,  the  rattling  earth 
dropped  on  the  coffin,  and  the  minister  had  taken  his 
departure,  some  who  were  present  indulged  in  a 
few  remarks  standing  on  the  edge  of  the  grave. 
One  remembered  this  of  the  departed,  and  another 
remembered  that.  I  had  my  remembrance  too; 
and  I  wish  it  had  been  of  a  different  kind.  I  re- 
membered— and  it  moves  me  even  now  to  acknow- 
ledge it — I  remembered  his  churlish  remark,  "  Let 
her  rest  in  her  grave  /" 

Now,  whatever  of  our  frailties  and  infirmities 
may  be  remembered  by  our  surviving  friends,  when 
the  green  sod  is  growing  over  us,  let  it  not  be  said 
that  we  had  within  us  unkind  and  churlish  hearts. 
We  are  borne  with  \  let  us  bear  with  others,  not 


180  THE    CHURLISH   FARMER. 

forgetting  the  injunction  of  the  apostle  Peter,  "  Be 
pitiful,  be  courteous ;"  nor  that  of  St.  Paul,  "  Be 
kindly  afTectioned  one  to  another,"  Rom.  xii.  10 ; 
1  Pet.  iii.  8. 


DESOLATION. 

Another  thought  for  the  thoughtful. 

Most  persons,  young  and  old,  have  a  pleasure  in 
visiting  ruins  :  this  inclination  is  somewhat  roman- 
tic in  youth,  but  in  age  it  springs  from  graver  and 
deeper  emotions.  When  an  old  man  gazes  on  a  di- 
lapidated mansion,  a  roofless  church,  a  ruined  ab- 
bey, a  desolated  palace,  or  a  mouldering  castle,  it 
comes  home  to  his  heart.  The  ivy,  the  crumbling 
wall,  the  falling  fragment,  and  the  tottering  tower 
speak  to  his  spirit  in  a  language  that  he  cannot  but 
comprehend.  They  are  monuments  on  which  are 
graven  his  own  mortality. 

Old  Humphrey  has  wandered  in  desolate  places, 
while  the  hollow  blustering  wind  and  the  voiceless 
solitude  have  alike  impressed  his  mind  with  the 
solemn  truth,  that  the  ground  was  giving  way  be- 
neath his  feet,  and  all  things  fading  around  him. 
His  latter  end  has  been  vividly  brought  before  him 


DESOLATION.  181 

and  his  lips  in  a  subdued  tone  have  syllabled  the 
words,  "  All  the  days  of  my  appointed  time  will  I 
wait,  till  my  change  come,"  Job  xiv.  14. 

How  impressive  is  the  language  of  Holy  Writ 
when  prophetically  sketching  the  ruins  of  Baby- 
lon! 

"  It  shall  never  be  inhabited,  neither  shall  it  be 
dwelt  in  from  generation  to  generation,  neither  shall 
'the  Arabian  pitch  his  tent  there :  neither  shall  the 
shepherds  make  their  fold  there.  But  wild  beasts 
of  the  desert  shall  lie  there  ;  and  their  houses  shall 
be  full  of  doleful  creatures ;  and  owls  shall  dwell 
there,  and  satyrs  shall  dance  there,"  Isa.  xiii.  20, 21. 

"  I  will  also  make  it  a  possession  for  the  bittern, 
and  pools  of  water :  and  I  will  sweep  it  with  the  be- 
som of  destruction,  saith  the  Lord  of  hosts,"  Isa, 
xiv.  23. 

Not  only  Christians,  but  Turks  have  been  moved 
to  solemn  reflections  by  the  influence  of  desolate 
places  over  their  minds.  It  is  said  that  when  Mo- 
hammed, second  emperor  of  the  Turks,  took  posses- 
sion of  Constantinople  in  the  year  1453,  and  thus 
put  an  end  to  the  Roman  name,  that  the  splendid 
palaces  of  Constantine  in  their  desolation  much  af- 
fected him.  For  a  season  he  mused  in  a  melancholy 
manner  on  the  fading  nature  of  earthly  greatness, 
and  then  broke  out  in  the  language  of  Arabian 
poetry,  "  The  spider  hath  woven  her  web  in  the  im- 
perial palace,  and  the  owl  hath  sung  her  watch  song 
on  the  towers  of  Afrasiab." 
16 


THE  DOORS  BEING  SHUT. 

I  have  been  reading  over  the  text,  "  Then  the 
same  day  at  evening,  being  the  first  day  of  the  week, 
when  the  doors  were  shut  where  the  disciples  were 
assembled  for  fear  of  the  Jews,  came  Jesus  and 
stood  in  the  midst,  and  saith  unto  them,  Peace  be 
unto  you,"  John  xx.  19.  I  have  been  reflecting  on 
the  circumstance  of  "the  doors  being  shut,"  and 
some  pleasant  though  somewhat  fanciful  thoughts 
have  come  across  my  mind. 

Do  you  wish  that  Jesus  would  come  into  your 
heart,  saying,  "Peace  be  unto  you1?"  Look  well 
to  it,  that  the  "doors"  and  windows  are  "shut;" 
for  if  your  ears  are  open  to  take  in  all  the  vain  bab- 
bling that  prevails  in  Vanity  Fair,  and  your  eyes 
open  to  stare  at  all  the  fine  things  there  set  forth, 
your  heart  will  soon  be  as  full  as  the  inn  at  Bethle- 
hem, and  there  will  be  no  room  for  Jesus.  Either 
keep  the  doors  and  windows  shut,  or  watch  them 
carefully.  It  is  cold  work  watching,  especially 
when  darkness  is  round  you.  Many  a  weary  hour 
will  you  have  while  other  folks  are  merry-making ; 
but  when  He  comes,  you  shall  see  that  the  morning 
Sun  of  Righteousness  is  better  than  the  midnight 
lamp  of  revelry. 


TRYING  TIMES. 

You  may  have  seen,  perhaps,  the  parting  of  a 
band  of  emigrants  with  their  friends  just  as  the  ship 
was  about  to  weigh  anchor.  Mothers  hanging  on 
the  necks  of  their  sons  ;  brothers  and  sisters  linked 
in  each  other's  arms  ;  lovers  as  pale  as  agony  could 
make  them,  clinging  to  one  another,  bathed  in  tears  ;' 
and  white-headed  old  men  and  grey-headed  old 
women,  spreading  out  their  aged  hands  to  their 
children  on  board,  or  clasping  them  in  prayer  on 
their  bended  knees,  invoking  the  best  blessings  of 
the  Almighty  on  those  they  were  about  to  lose  for 
ever !  If  you  have  seen  these  things — the  tears,  the 
lamentations,  the  blessings,  the  agony,  the  faintings, 
and  the  prayers,  no  doubt,  sunk  into  your  souls. 

It  is  just  possible  too,  that  you  may  have  been 
present  among  the  passengers  of  a  ship  in  distress, 
when  the  mast  has  been  carried  away  by  the  board, 
when  a  leak  has  sprung,  and  four  feet  of  water  been 
collected  in  the  hold.  When  the  vessel  has  stuck 
on  a  rock,  staving  in  her  bows,  tearing  away  her 
keel,  and  beating  about  on  the  sharp  crags  like  a 
huge  fish  left  by  the  receding  sea  upon  the  shallowy 
shore  ;  and  if  so,  you  must  have  seen  the  wild  rush 
of  crew  and  passengers  on  deck  ;  witnessed  the 
heart-rending  agony  of  old  and  young,  and  heard 


184  TRYING   TIMES. 

the  mingled  oaths  and  prayers,  the  fervent  petitions 
and  frantic  ravings  of  the  bewildered  throng  in  mo- 
mentary expectation  of  overwhelming  destruction. 

Now  these  are  trying  times,  and  they  bring  to 
light  whether  we  have  been  building  on  the  sands 
or  on  the  rock.  It  is  in  vain  to  deceive  ourselves 
with  false  hopes,  trusting  to  the  strength  of  our 
minds  and  the  influence  of  reason  over  us,  for  these 
things  will  no  more  support  us  in  such  seasons  than 
a  leaky  boat  will  preserve  us  in  a  storm.  There  is 
no  cure  for  the  sorrows  of  earth,  save  the  well- 
grounded  hope  of  the  joys  of  heaven.  If,  when  we 
part  with  our  friends  here,  we  have  the  assurance 
that  we  shall  meet  them  hereafter,  it  will  go  far  to 
mitigate  our  grief,  and  if,  when  we  are  tost  in  the 
storm  that  threatens  us  and  all  around  us  with  de- 
struction, we  can  put  our  confidence  in  him  who 
said  to  the  troubled  ocean,  "  Peace,  be  still,"  Mark 
iv.  39,  then  only  will  our  souls  be  sustained  in 
peace. 


THE  TWO  BUSTS. 

Never  affect  knowledge  in  that  about  which  you 
know  nothing.     By  acting  contrary  to  this  advice, 


THE   TWO   BUSTS.  185 

you  may  pass  for  a  person  of  discernment  one  mo- 
ment, and  be  overwhelmed  with  confusion  the  next. 

I  will  not  undertake  to  answer  for  the  truth  of  the 
tale,  but  it  is  said  that  a  stranger  once  went  into  the 
study  of  a  statuary,  where  two  busts  were  standing  ; 
one,  he  was  told,  was  the  resemblance  of  the  mur- 
derous Greenacre,  and  the  other  that  of  the  benevo- 
lent Howard. 

For  some  time  he  gazed  on  the  figures,  observing 
in  one  all  the  ruffian  qualities  of  a  murderer,  and  as 
distinctly  tracing  in  the  other  all  the  amiable  virtues 
of  a  philanthropist.  Long  and  loud  were  his  praises 
in  commendation  of  the  sculptor  who  had  succeeded 
in  depicting  so  faithfully  and  forcibly  the  lineaments 
of  virtue  and  vice.  All  passed  off  remarkably  well, 
until  the  discriminating  stranger,  by  one  of  his  re- 
marks, made  it  appear  too  plainly  that  he  had  mis- 
taken one  bust  for  the  other :  that  in  which  he  had 
admired  virtue  was  the  likeness  of  Greenacre  ;  and 
the  other  in  which  he  had  abhorred  vice,  was  tho 
resemblance  of  the  philanthropist. 

If  we  are  in  the  mood  to  profit,  we  may  get  good 
from  the  narration  given.  Who  is  there  that  has 
not  credit  for  more  wisdom  than  he  possesses? 
With  many  it  is  a  favourite  object  to  appear  wiser 
than  others  ;  and  with  most  of  us  it  is  easy  to  be 
proud,  but  very  hard  to  be  humble. 


16* 


A  HINT  TO  A  NEIGHBOUR  ON 
INDIGESTION. 

As  you  are  troubled  with  indigestion,  taking  med- 
icine, and  leading  a  weary  life  of  it,  now  better  for 
a  season,  and  then  again  worse  than  ever,  I  will 
prescribe  for  you.  Experience  is  an  excellent  phy- 
sician ;  take  then  my  recipe.  You  are  welcome  to 
it,  though  it  is  invaluable. 

Look  less  to  the  food  you  eat,  and  more  to  the 
temper  and  frame  of  mind  in  which  you  eat  it. 

Instead  of  getting  much  physic  into  your  stom- 
ach, get  a  little  thankfulness  into  your  heart,  and 
you  will  soon  see  what  will  become  of  your  indi- 
gestion. The  love  of  God  shed  abroad  in  the  heart 
helps  the  temper  ;  a  good  temper  helps  the  appetite  ; 
a  good  appetite  helps  the  stomach  ;  and  a  good  stom- 
ach assists  the  digestion. 

So  long  as  you  are  under  the  dominion  of  fear, 
anger,  hurry,  care,  grief,  ill-temper,  or  any  bad  pas- 
sion, you  may  live  in  vain  on  the  wings  of  larks, 
the  thighs  of  woodcocks,  and  the  breasts  of  par- 
tridges. Nothing  will  suit  your  digestion  ;  the' ten- 
der will  become  tough,  and  the  light  will  lie  heavy 
on  your^stomach. 

Let  love,  joy,  peace,  long-suffering,  gentleness, 


A   HINT   TO   A   NEIGHBOUR   ON   INDIGESTION.      187 

goodness,  abide  and  abound  in  your  heart.  Obtain 
this  spirit,  eat  your  food  under  its  influence,  and  get 
often  into  the  fresh  air  ;  and,  take  my  word  for  it, 
you  will  ere  long  be  able  to  eat  toasted  cheese  and 
barm  dumplings  with  impunity. 


THE  BASKET  OF  SUMMER  FRUIT. 

Where  is  the  Bible  reader  in  the  whole  world 
who  has  not  occasionally  found,  when  reading  the 
word  of  God,  an  unusual  fulness,  significancy,  and 
sweetness  in  texts  which  he  has  read  over  a  hundred 
times  without  emotion  !  Sometimes  too,  the  words 
suggest  to  the  mind  comfortable  thoughts  which  ap- 
pear to  have  little  or  no  connexion  with  the  true- 
meaning  of  the  text.  A  case  of  this  kind  occurred 
to  me  yesterday,  as  I  read  the  words,  "  And  he  said, 
Amos,  what  seest  thou  1  And  I  said,  A  basket  of 
summer  fruit,"  Amos  viii.  2. 

Now  the  basket  of  summer  fruit  seems  in  the 
prophecy  to  set  forth  the  approaching  end  of  Israel  j 
but  it  communicated  to  my  mind  joyous  feelings, 
and  delightful  anticipations.  "  Summer  fruit,"  seem- 
ed the  symbol  of  coming  mercies  and  blessings 
about  to  be  enjoyed.     What  more  pleasant  to  the 


188  THE   BASKET   OF    SUMMER   FRUIT. 

eye,  what  more  grateful  to  the  taste,  in  the  sunny 
season  of  the  year,  than  summer  fruit  ?  "  Amos, 
what  seest  thou?     A  basket  of  summer  fruit." 

A  good  thing  it  is  to  know  the  true  meaning  of 
every  text  in  God's  holy  word ;  but  I  hope  it  is  not 
an  unlawful  use  of  Scripture  to  receive  gratefully 
any  pleasant  suggestion  it  may  convey  that  is  not 
opposed  to  its  general  spirit  and  truth  ;  and  that  I 
may,  without  committing  an  error,  follow  out  such 
suggestion  when  it  adds  as  much  to  my  thankfulness 
as  to  my  joy. 

Oh  what  goodly  baskets  of  summer  fruit  are  in 
store  for  the  humble  believer !  First,  there  is  sum- 
mer itself,  with  all  its  fruits  and  flowers,  its  glowing 
scenes  and  golden,  glorious  skies,  all  given  by  the 
hand  of  his  heavenly  Father!  Then  there  are 
heart-comforting,  seasons  of  prayer  and  praise, 
wherein  a  weak  worm  of  the  earth  is  permitted  to 
hold  close  communion  with  the  mighty  God  of 
heaven !  Then  there  is  the  book  of  eternal  truth, 
not  the  word  of  men,  but  as  it  is  in  truth  the  word 
of  God,  enlightening  the  eyes,  making  wise  the 
simple,  converting  the  soul,  and  rejoicing  the  heart, 
Psa.  xix.  7,  8.  Then  come  the  ordinances  of  reli- 
gion, the  means  of  grace,  and  the  hope  of  glory 
through  Jesus  Christ,  with  all  the  precious  promises 
of  support  through  life  and  death,  and  an  abundant 
entrance  into  life  eternal.  "  Amos,  what  seest  thou  ? 
A  basket  of  summer  fruit."  Ay,  and  a  precious 
basket  it  is  too  ;  for  though  in  one  sense  it  shadows 


THE   BASKET   OF    SUMMER   FRUIT.  189 

forth  the  end  of  Israel  on  earth,  in  another  it  sets 
forth,  as  with  a  sunbeam,  the  beginning  of  Israel  in 
heaven.  If  you  are  enabled  to  consider  this  subject 
experimentally,  it  will  be  indeed  a  basket  of  summer 
fruit,  refreshing  to  .your  heart  and  to  your  soul. 


THE  LASKET  LANE. 

Again  do  I  say  it  to  my  sorrow,  that  a  worse  road 
than  Lasket  Lane  it  would  be  very  difficult  to  find. 
So  stony  in  one  part,  and  so  clayey  in  another ;  so 
full  of  deep  ruts,  holes,  and  quagmires,  and  so  beset 
on  each  side  with  straggling  brambles,  that,  take  it 
altogether,  it  would  be,  as  I  said,  no  easy  matter  to 
find  a  worse  road. 

Not  only  is  the  road  bad  in  itself,  but  the  people 
who  have  to  do  with  it  seem  to  take  a  sort  of  pride 
in  making  it  worse.  On  one  side  the  road  lies  a 
gate-post,  thrown  down  so  carelessly,  that  any  one 
unaccustomed  to  the  lane,  when  driving  along  in  a 
gig  at  nightfall,  would,  in  all  probability,  be  over- 
thrown. On  the  other  side,  at  some  distance  from 
the  gate-post,  is  a  heap  of  weeds,  not  spread  about, 
but  piled  up  as  if  for  the  very  purpose  of  doing  mis- 
chief j  while  from  the  top  of  the  lane  to  the  bottom, 


190  THE   LASKET   LANE. 

large  heaps  of  stones  lie  in  very  dangerous  positions : 
they  may  be  broken  some  day  to  fill  up  the  ruts,  the 
holes,  and  the  quagmires  ;  but  while  they  lie  where 
they  now  are,  they  render  Lasket  Lane  almost  im- 
passable. 

Some  time  ago,  I  had  to  pass  along  this  lane  on 
a  very  stormy  day ;  and  though  I  was  on  horse- 
back, with  a  pair  of  mud  boots  up  to  my  thighs,  and 
a  great  coat  and  Macintosh  on  my  back,  still  to  get 
along  Lasket  Lane  was  a  sad  trouble  to  me.  While 
I  was  walking  my  horse  cautiously  along,  holding 
at  the  same  time  an  umbrella  over  my  head,  I  heard 
a  splashing  behind  me,  and  in  another  minute,  a 
countryman,  in  a  smock-frock,  mounted  on  a  strong 
horse,  dashed  by  me,  seemingly  as  light-hearted  and 
as  unconcerned  as  if  the  weather  had  been  fine,  and 
the  Lasket  Lane  as  smooth  as  a  bowling-green. 

The  countryman  had  neither  umbrella,  mud 
boots,  great  coat,  nor  Macintosh  cloak ;  yet  on  he 
went  freely  and  fearlessly,  not  even  thinking  that  to 
be  a  trouble,  which  I  had  so  much  difficulty  in  con- 
tending with.  As  he  resolutely  splashed  onward 
through  the  miry  lane,  I  looked  after  him  with  a 
degree  of  respect ;  for  I  felt  my  own  littleness. 
"  There  goes  my  superior  I"  thought  I,  and  before 
I  had  reached  the  middle  of  the  Lasket  Lane,  no 
doubt  he  was  at  the  end  of  it. 

If  you  had  seen  me  huddled  up  on  horseback, 
wrinkling  my  brow  at  the  stormy  weather,  and 
looking  anxiously  at  the  wretched  road,  you  would 


THE   LASKET   LANE.  191 

very  likely  have  laughed  at  me  ;  hut  had  you  seen 
the  countryman,  you  would  have  regarded  him  with 
pleasure.     Learn  a  lesson,  then,  from  us  both. 

There  are  many  Lasket  Lanes  in  the  world,  of 
one  kind  or  other :  rude  and  rough  roads,  and  deep 
and  dirty  quagmires  are  to  be  found  in  most  places  ; 
and  if  there  are  not  these,  still  there  are  trials  to 
endure,  and  difficulties  to  overcome.  Meet  them 
with  a  good  spirit,  and  be  not  disheartened  by 
trifling  troubles ! 

Be  ashamed  of  giving  way  to  unnecessary  fears  ; 
look  upward  confidently,  and  go  onwards  boldly. 
Learn  to  endure  hardness  as  a  faithful  soldier  of 
Christ,  especially  in  holy  things  ;  for  "  no  man, 
having  put  his  hand  to  the  plough,  and  looking 
back,  is  fit  for  the  kingdom  of  God,"  Luke  ix.  62. 

Courage  in  the  common  affairs  of  life  is  a  valua- 
ble quality,  but  in  spiritual  things  it  is  a  Christian 
grace.  Let  us  take  courage,  then,  thinking  lightly 
of  our  momentary  troubles.  "  Let  us  lay  aside 
every  weight,  and  the  sin  which  doth  so  easily  beset 
us,  and  let  us  run  with  patience  the  race  that  is  be- 
fore us,  looking  unto  Jesus  the  author  and  finisher  of 
our  faith  ;  who  for  the  joy  that  was  set  before  him 
endured  the  cross,  despising  the  shame,  and  is  set 
down  at  the  right  hand  of  the  throne  of  God.  For 
consider  him  that  endured  such  contradiction  of  sin- 
ners against  himself,  lest  ye  be  wearied  and  faint 
in  your  minds,"  Heb.  xii.  1 — 3. 


GOD'S  PRESENCE. 

They  who  have  God's  presence  have  all  that 
they  need  ;  for  in  his  presence  is  fulness  of  joy,  and 
at  his  right  hand  pleasures  for  evermore.  Are  they 
in  doubt  and  danger  ?  they  hear  the  Master's  voice 
saying,  "  Peace,  be  still,"  and,  "  It  is  I ;  be  not 
afraid  !"  Are  they  in  the  water  or  the  fire  1  "  When 
thou  passest  through  the  waters,  I  will  be  with 
thee ; — when  thou  walkest  through  the  fire,  thou 
shalt  not  be  burned."  Christians,  indeed,  are  not 
over  particular  about  circumstances,  so  that  they  are 
blessed  with  God's  presence.  When  Jesus  is  seen 
walking  upon  the  sea,  they  know  that  there  will 
soon  be  a  great  calm.  The  people  of  God  know 
what  winter  is,-  as  well  as  summer  ;  they  know 
what  thorns  are  as  welJ  as  flowers.  Often  do  they 
walk  in  desolate  places,  and  stumble  in  rugged 
pathways  with  a  darkness  that  may  be  felt  all 
around  them ;  but  when  God  is  with  them,  crooked 
things  are  made  straight,  and  rough  places  plain. 
I  ask  not,  therefore,  whether  you  are  at  ease  or  in 
trouble ;  whether  you  are  sitting  down  in  green 
pastures,  or  standing  up  in  a  fiery  furnace ;  but, 
rather,  Is  there  one  with  you  like  unto  "  the  Son  of 
God  r  See  Dan.  iii.  25. 


ON  DRESS. 

What  a  medley  of  opinions,  what  diversified  in- 
clinations there  are  among  mankind  on  the  subject 
of  dress  !  One  follows  the  fashion  ;  another  is  neg- 
ligent, and  becomes  slovenly ;  a  third  considers 
neatness  an  indispensable  requisite  ;  a  fourth  disap- 
proves of  wearing  mourning ;  and  a  fifth  dresses 
plain  and  lowly,  making  it  a  matter  of  conscience  to 
do  so,  and  deeming  it  wrong  to  do  otherwise.  For 
myself,  I  leave  the  right  and  the  wrong  of  the  thing, 
believing  as  I  do  that  we  are  too  apt,  in  many  cases, 
to  be  more  precise  than  our  heavenly  Father  re- 
quires us  to  be.  We  are  too  much  given  to  bind 
ourselves  where  He  gives  us  liberty,  and  to  take 
liberty  where  He  would  bind  us  for  our  good  ;  but 
I  am  rather  fond  of  following  out  my  own  feelings 
in  these  matters,  and  in  letting  others  follow  out 
theirs.  Let  the  rejoicing  bride  and  bridegroom 
adorn  themselves  with  their  wedding  garments  j 
and  let  those  who  are  sorrowful,  if  they  list,  put  on 
sackcloth  and  go  softly.  Some  time  ago,  in  leaving 
the  house  of  a  neighbour,  I  took  up  a  hat  which 
had  crape  around  it ;  but  as  it  did  not  fit  me,  I  re- 
turned to  chan^  it  for  my  own.  "  Well,  sir,"  said 
the  owner  of  the  hat,  "  I  do  not  much  wonder  at  the 
mistake,  as  we  have  each  of  us  hoisted  the  symbol 
17 


194  ON   DRESS. 

of  sorrow.  May  that  sorrow  which  is  shadowed 
forth  in  our  hats  be  sanctified  to  our  hearts,  and  then 
it  will  be  a  blessing  to  us  both."  This  Christian 
remark  had  my  hearty  Amen !  and  the  crape  on 
my  hat  has  often,  since  then,  brought  it  into  my 
mind. 

Whatever  be  our  opinions  about  dress,  it  is  not,  I 
think,  wise  to  affect  singularity.  Were  a  man  tc 
dress  himself  up  in  a  Merry  Andrew's  cap  and 
bells,  or  a  harlequin's  jacket,  he  might  set  the 
neigbourhood  grinning  around  him,  but  he  would 
add  thereby  neither  to  his  comfort  nor  his  reputa- 
tion. But,  after  all,  weakness  is  more  pardonable 
than  ill-nature  ;  and,  therefore,  though  I  hold  with 
no  extremes,  I  dislike  the  extreme  of  fashion  less 
than  the  extreme  of  fault-finding. 


THE  BITTER  FRUITS  OF  WAR. 

The  surgeon  who  would  cure  a  wound  must 
probe  it  to  the  bottom,  if  it  be  requisite ;  and  he  that 
would  produce  a  hatred  of  war,  must  not  be  afraid 
to  make  manifest  its  enormities.      ® 

"  The  field  of  battle  (Borodino)  had  all  the  ap- 
pearance of  an  extinguished  volcano.     The  ground 


THE   BITTER   FRUITS    OF   WAR.  195 

was  covered  all  around  with  fraginents  of  helmets 
and  cuirasses,  broken  drums,  gun-stocks,  tatters  of 
uniforms,  and  standards  dyed  with  blood.  On  this 
spot  lay  thirty  thousand  half-devoured  corses.  The 
emperor  (Napoleon)  passed  quickly, nobody  stopped; 
cold,  hunger,  and  the  enemy  urged  us  on:  we 
merely  turned  our  faces  as  we  proceeded,  to  fake  a 
last  melancholy  look  at  the  vast  grave  of  so  many 
companions  in  arms  uselessly  sacrificed." — SegupJs 
Russian  Campaign. 

Read,  ye  fathers !  Are  ye  ready  thus  to  sacrifice 
your  sons  ?  Is  this  the  fame  and  the  glory  ye  de- 
sire for  them?  Are  ye  quite  content  that  the  flesh 
of  your  flesh,  and  bone  of  your  bone  should  thus 
be  made  an  untimely  banquet  for  birds  and  beasts 
of  prey? 

"  Multitudes  of  these  desolate  fugitives  lost  their 
speech ;  others  were  seized  with  frenzy,  and  many 
were  so  maddened  with  the  extremes  of  pain  and 
hunger,  that  they  tore  the  dead  bodies  of  their  com- 
rades to  pieces,  and  feasted  on  the  disgusting  re- 
mains."— Sir  Robert  Ker  Porter. 

Read,  ye  mothers !  and  ask  yourselves  if  it  was 
for  this  that  ye  nourished  and  brought  up  your  chil- 
dren tenderly — for  this  that  ye  watched  and  wept 
over  them,  and  taught  them  to  lisp  their  infant 
prayers  ? 

"  In  the  hospitals  of  Wilna,  were  above  nineteen 
thousand  dead  and  dying,  frozen  and  freezing ;  the 
oodies  of  the  former  broken  up,  served  to  stop  the 


196  THE   BITTER   FRUITS    OF   WAR. 

cavities  in  windows,  floors,  and  walls ;  but  in  one 
of  the  corridors  of  the  great  convent,  above  fifteen 
hundred  bodies  were  piled  up  transversely,  as  pigs 
of  lead  or  iron.  In  the  roads,  men  were  collected 
around  the  burning  ruins  of  the  cottages  which  a 
mad  spirit  of  destruction  had  fired,  picking  and  eat- 
ing the  burnt  bodies  of  their  fellow-men." — Sir 
Robert  Wilson. 

Read,  ye  fathers  and  mothers !  ye  wives  and  hus- 
bands. Read  in  the  bitterness  of  your  spirit,  and 
instead  of  railing  on  the  culpable  demerits  of  others 
that  delight  in  war,  call  to  mind  your  own.  I  would 
fain  put  these  questions  to  your  hearts  and  your 
souls.  Have  you  ever  reflected  on  the  sin  and  the 
sorrows  of  war?  Have  you  ever  lifted  up  your 
voice  on  high  among  your  friends,  or  whispered 
into  the  ears  of  your  children,  denouncing  war  as  a 
curse  to  mankind  ?  Have  you  ever  put  up  a  prayer 
to  the  High  and  Holy  One,  that  the  sword  might 
be  scabbarded  for  ever  %  Have  you,  in  short,  done 
any  thing  in  thought,  word,  or  deed,  to  extend  on 
earth  the  blessings  of  peace,  and  to  diminish  the 
guilt  and  misery  of  war  % 


THE  SETTING  SUN. 

Did  our  emotions  at  al  correspond  with  the  won- 
ders around  us,  then  would  our  hands,  our  eyes, 
and  our  hearts  be  continually  lifted  up  towards  hea- 
ven. What  a  goodly  sight  is  that  of  the  retiring- 
orb  of  day !  The  sunset  that  I  have  just  seen  is  not 
to  be  described ;  but  as  fair  and  glowing  landscapes 
are  sometimes  tolerably  depicted  in  Indian  ink,  so 
my  poor  expressions  may  shadow  forth  some  faint 
resemblance  of  the  glorious  spectacle  on  which  I 
have  so  recently  gazed. 

Blue  was  the  wide  firmament  in  the  east,  the 
north,  and  the  south :  it  was  in  the  west  alone  that 
the  kindling  beams  of  the  retiring  sun  were  visible, 
gradually  increasing  in  intensity  till  the  overpow- 
ered sight  could  no  longer  endure  the  brightness 
that  in  one  point  concentrated  itself  in  an  apparent 
blaze.  A  change  came  over  the  scene,  and  dark, 
gilt-edged  clouds  in  broken  masses  assumed  the  ap- 
pearance of  rocks,  through  which  floods  of  light 
found  their  way.  Another  change.  The  rocks 
became  darker,  and  the  glowing  light  brighter.  It 
was  a  transition  from  loveliness  to  excessive  beauty, 
from  grandeur  to  magnificence  unutterable.  I  could 
only  give  a  rapid  glance  at  the  overpowering  scene ; 
but  in  that  glance  what  glory  was  visible !  The 
17* 


198  THE    SETTING   SUN. 

floods  of  light  were  as  cascades  of  silvery  streams, 
cataracts  of  molten  gold,  and  tumbling  torrents  of 
liquid  diamonds. 

In  this  imperfect  state  of  being,  how  much  of  rap- 
ture may  be  enjoyed !  but  in  a  more  glorious  exist- 
ence a  thousand  new  senses  may  be  given  us,  and 
ten  thousand  new  sources  of  delight. 


A  SABBATH  PASSED  IN  A  DITCH. 

In  moving  among  mankind,  we  are  very  sure, 
every  now  and  then,  unexpectedly  to  fall  in  with 
those  who  are  grateful  for  the  means  of  grace,  and 
the  hope  of  glory,  who  read  the  Bible,  value  the 
sabbath,  and  love  the  Saviour. 

Not  long  ago,  Timet  with  a  stranger,  who,  in  con- 
versation with  me,  spoke  thus  on  the  subject  of  the 
Christian  sabbath  : — "  Though  there  is  doubtless 
much  of  ungodliness  in  England,  yet  when  compar- 
ed with  the  sabbaths  on  the  continent,  a  sabbath  here 
is  a  delightful  season.  No  one  can  truly  value  that 
blessed  day  until  he  has  been  deprived  of  its  enjoy- 
ment. When  in  the  army,  I  felt  this  deprivation: 
we  had  misery  in  every  shape ;  for,  in  the  Peninsu- 
lar war,  toil,  danger,  disease,  and  death,  wero  con 


A   SABBATH   PASSED   IN   A   DITCH.  199 

tinually  around  us  and  among  us.  The  nearer  the 
troops  appeared  to  be  to  eternity,  the  farther  off  their 
thoughts  appeared  to  be  from  God.  The  thousands 
that  had  been  slain  were  disregarded ;  neither  the 
dead  nor  the  dying  seemed  to  excite  a  serious 
thought  in  the  minds  of  the  reckless  soldiers.  In 
such  circumstances,  how  grateful  would  have  been 
the  peace,  the  refreshment,  the  consolation,  the  joy 
of  a  Christian  sabbath. 

"  It  was  on  the  sabbath-day  that  I  received  a  let- 
ter from  an  affectionate  daughter,  then  in  England : 
it  alluded  to  the  uncertainty  of  life,  especially  to  a 
military  man.  It  pressed  on  me  the  consideration 
of  eternal  things,  and  pointed  me  to  Him  who,  in 
peace  and  in  war,  in  health  and  in  sickness,  in  life 
and  in  death,  is  able  to  save  them  to  the  uttermost 
that  come  unto  God  by  him.  Every  word  made  a 
lodgment  in  my  heart.  Folding  up  the  letter,  and 
putting  a  prayer-book  in  my  pocket,  I  walked  out 
to  a  distance  from  the  camp,  until  I  came  to  a  soli- 
tary ditch,  in  that  ditch,  on  my  knees,  I  poured  out 
my  soul  before  God,  arid  there,  in  peace,  I  spent  my 
sabbath  day  !" 

Christian  reader,  this  anecdote  is  worthy  of  at- 
tention ;  it  shows  that,  with  God's  blessing,  the 
faithful  and  affectionate  remonstrance  of  a  pious 
child  will  affect  the  heart  of  a  parent,  though  he  be 
a  soldier  in  the  camp,  and  surrounded  with  ungodli- 
ness ;  and  also  that  when  the  soul  truly  hungers  and 
thirsts  after  the  bread  of  life  and  living  waters,  it 


200  A   SABBATH   PASSED    IN   A   DITCH. 

will,  under  the  most  unfavourable  circumstances, 
find  out  a  way  of  holding  communion  with  God. 
The  heart  may  be  comforted  in  the  most  solitary 
place,  and  a  profitable  sabbath  may  be  spent  in  a 
ditch. 


WAGES. 

One  word  with  you  about  wages ;  but  first  let 
me  tell  you,  that  I  am  not  one  of  those  who  would 
have  men  work  for  nothing.  No,  no  !  An  honest, 
industrious,  skilful  workman  ought  to  receive  good 
wages.  Neither  am  I  one  of  those  who  think 
workmen  ought  to  demand  what  they  like  for  their 
labour,  regardless  whether  or  not  their  masters  can 
afford  to  give  them  more  than  they  do.  Masters 
must  be  considered  as  well  as  men.  In  short,  I  take 
it  that  a  discontented  and  encroaching  workman, 
and  a  hard,  oppressive  master,  are  both  alike,  and 
that  neither  the  one  nor  the  other  is  a  creditable 
character.  Masters  cannot  do  without  workmen, 
nor  workmen  without  masters  ;  so  the  one  ought  to 
consider  the  welfare  of  the  other. 

You  may  say  that  workmen's  wages  are  not  high 
enough,  either  in  town  or  country,  and  that  a  man 


WAGES.  201 

with  a  family  has  many  a  pinch  to  make  both  ends 
meet ;  but,  bad  as  it  is  to  have  low  wages,  it  would 
be  a  great  deal  worse  not  to  receive  wages  after 
they  had  been  fairly  earned.  How  would  you  feel 
if,  on  a  Saturday  night,  your  master  should'  say  that 
he  did  not  intend  to  pay  you  your  wages  ?  You 
would  tell  him  that  you  had  worked  hard  and  hon- 
estly for  your  money,  and  were  therefore  entitled  to 
it ;  and  in  telling  him  so,  you  would  speak  the 
truth.  But,  let  us  see  if  you  would,  on  all  occa- 
sions, be  equally  anxious  to  receive  your  wages. 

You  either  are,  or  ought  to  be,  a  servant  of  God, 
"  the  high  and  lofty  One  that  inhabiteth  eternity." 
What  wages,  then,  do  you  consider  yourself  entitled 
to  receive  at  his  hands  ?  If  as  an  humble  follower 
of  Christ,  relying  wholly  on  his  atoning  sacrifice, 
and  giving  all  glory  to  God,  you  work  while  it  is 
called  to-day,  doing  the  service  of  your  Master  with 
a  willing  mind,  you  will  have  no  reason  to  complain 
of  him  hereafter.  Grace  here,  and  glory  hereafter, 
are  not  to  be  despised.  But,  remember,  "  The 
wages  of  sin  is  death,"  sure,  certain,  and  eternal 
death.  Remember,  that  even  the  great  apostle 
Paul  complained  of  the  evil  of  his  heart,  and  that 
the  word  of  God  tells  us  there  is  none  righteous,  no, 
not  one  !  If,  then,  "  the  labourer  is  worthy  of  his 
hire,"  will  you  venture  to  demand  your  wages ! 
If  God,  the  Almighty  Master  of  his  servants,  is 
ready  to  render  to  "  every  man  according  to  his 
work,"    are  you  equally  ready  to  receive    your 


202  WAGES* 

wages  1  This  is  a  serious  inquiry,  and  may,  per- 
haps, lead  you,  not  only  to  reflect  on  God's  forbear- 
ance during  your  past  life,  but  also  to  seek  his  grace 
in  time  to  come,  that  you  may  be  "  a  workman  that 
needeth  not  to  be  ashamed." 

"  Time  moves  with  rapid  wings  ;  but  when  shall  fly 
The  countless  ages  of  eternity  V 

Of  how  little  importance  are  the  wages  of  time, 
compared  with  those  of  eternity?  If  you  know 
that  you  have  done  the  works  of  iniquity,  and  feel 
afraid  to  reply  to  the  inquiry,  "  Tell  me,  what  shall 
thy  wages  be  ?"  take  up  the  language  of  the  poor 
prodigal,  "  I  will  arise  and  go  to  my  father,  and 
will  say  unto  him,  Father,  I  have  sinned  against 
heaven,  and  before  thee,  and  am  no  more  worthy  to 
be  called  thy  son :  make  me  as  one  of  thy  hired  ser- 
vants," Luke  xv.  18,  19.  If  thus,  with  a  contrite 
spirit,  you  are  enabled  through  mercy  to  enter  anew 
into  the  service  of  God,  you  will  receive  from  him 
more  than  you  can  ask  or  think. 

"  For  kingly  crowns,  though  freely  given, 
Are  dross,  compared  with  that  reward 
Of  peace  on  earth  and  joy  in  heaven, 
Prepared  for  those  who  love  the  Lord." 


SUITABLE  MERCIES. 

When  we  regard  the  human  frame  attentively, 
we  are  not  only  struck  with  its  symmetry  and 
beauty,  but  also  with  the  suitableness  of  its  separate 
parts  to  the  functions  they  have  to  perform.  Had 
the  hands  occupied  the  place  of  the  feet,  and  the  feet 
the  place  of  the  hands,  how  imperfect  would  have 
been  the  workmanship  performed  by  the  one,  and 
the  movements  made  by  the  other  !  It  is  the  same 
with  the  other  members  ;  they  are  nicely  adapted  to 
their  several  ends. 

Although  we  observe  these  things,  we  are  not  so 
quick  to  perceive  a  suitableness  in  the  blessings 
which  our  heavenly  Father  bestows  upon  us  in  the 
different  seasons* of  life.  If  in  youth  we  had  the 
love  of  quietude  that  accompanies  age,  our  strength 
and  activity  would  be  of  little  use ;  and  if  in  age  we 
possessed  the  ardour  of  youth,  our  infirmities  would 
prevent  it  from  being  a  benefit  to  us.  There  are  a 
few  lines,  written  by  the  Rev;>  H.  Venn,  on  this  sub- 
ject, that  can  scarcely  be  read  without  interest. 

, "  When  I  look  back  forty  years  of  my  life,  I  re- 
member I  was  perpetually  in  company,  full  of  ani- 
mal spirits,  thoughtless,  self-pleasing,  and  solitude 
would,  then,  have  been  the  heaviest  burden  to  my 
mind.     Now,  to  be  alone ;  to  be  looking  on  my  bed 


204  SUITABLE    MERCIES 

as  probably  the  spot  on  which  I  am  to  fight  the  last 
battle  before  I  win  Christ,  and  see  him  as  he  is  ;  to 
consider,  with  the  closest  attention,  the  origin,  and 
the  nature,  and  the  consequences  of  death;  to  the 
friends  of  Christ : — this  work  invigorates  my  mind, 
and  nourishes  my  soul.  I  accept  the  privilege  and 
power  of  doing  thus,  and  the  great  opportunity  I 
have  for  this  exercise,  with  joyful  gratitude,  saying, 
*  The  lines  are  fallen  unto  me  in  pleasant  places : 
yea,  I  have  a  goodly  heritage,'  "  Psa.  xvi.  6. 


THE  SEASONS. 

You  will  agree  with  Old  Humphrey  that  Spring 
is  a  pleasant  time ;  and  when  the  sun  is  shining,  the 
flowers  blooming,  the  green  trees  waving,  the  birds 
singing,  the  balmy  breeze  blowing,  the  spirit  re- 
joices, and  the  lips  burst  into  a  song. 

Summer  is  a  pleasant  time,  when  the  noon-tide 
ray  gilds  up  the  woods,  the  waters,  and  the  moun- 
tain-tops ;  when  the  air  is  filled  'with  odours,  and 
the  laugh  of  the  merry  haymakers  is  heard  in  the 
meads. 

Autumn  is  a  pleasant  time,  and  we  cannot  look 
without  gladness  on  the  golden  grain,  the  laden 


THE   SEASONS.  205 

fruit  trees,  the  varied  foliage,  and  the  kindling  hea- 
vens. 

Winter  is  a  pleasant  time  to  all  who  are  hardy- 
enough  to  walk  abroad  when  the  frosted  snow  lies 
on  the  ground,  and  the  trees  are  hung  fantastically 
with  rime;  for  then  wonder  is  awakened  in  the 
mind,  and  the  pure,  sharp,  bracing  air  gives  a  cheer- 
fulness to  the  spirit. 

Spring,  Summer,  Autumn,  and  Winter,  are 
pleasant  seasons,  and  if  any  thing  can  make  them 
more  pleasant,  it  is  the  heart-felt  remembrance  that 
they  are  the  gift  of  God.  Yes,  He  who  hath 
measured  the  waters  in  the  hollow  of  his  hand,  and 
meted  out  heaven  with  the  span,  and  comprehended 
the  dust  of  the  earth  in  a  measure,  and  weighed  the 
mountains  in  scales,  and  the  hills  in  a  balance ;  He, 
with  whom  the  nations  are  as  a  drop  of  a  bucket, 
and  are  counted  as  the  small  dust  of  the  balance, 
who  "  taketh  up  the  isles  as  a  very  little  thing ;" 
for  whom  "  Lebanon  is  not  sufficient  to  burn,  nor 
the  beasts  thereof  sufficient  for  a  burnt-offering ;" 
He  has  given  them  to  me.  And  what  have  I  given 
in  return  ?  the  fragments  of  my  feelings,  and  the 
mere  shreds  of  the  joyous  days  and  peaceful  nights 
he  has  bestowed  upon  me. 

Oh  let  me  then  with  all  my  powers, 

Prolong  his  sacred  praise 
Through  Spring  and  Summer's  rosy  hours, 

And  Autumn's  pleasant  days ! 

18 


206  THE   SEASONS. 

And  when  the  keener  wintry  skies 
Shall  freeze  the  sterile  ground, 

Then  let  my  halleluiahs  rise, 
And  more  and  more  abound. 


WE  SHALL  MEET  IN  HEAVEN. 

I  have  just  received  a  letter  from  a  Christian 
friend,  a  dear,  afflicted,  aged,  and  dying  friend  ;  but 
his  heart  is  where  it  should  be.  It  has  got  above 
the  mists  and  fogs  that  gather  about  us  here,  and 
seems  to  set  but  little  store  by  any  thing  that  has  not 
immortality  written  upon  it.  One  paragraph  of  the 
letter  says,  "  We  shall  meet  in  heaven  ;"  and  if  this 
expression  has  brought  tears  into  my  eyes,  it  has 
also  given  joy  to  my  heart  and  soul.  "  We  shall 
meet  .in  heaven."  Why,  then,  what  need  have  we 
to  be  cast  down  by  any  thing  that  shall  happen  on 
earth  % 

The  thorny  and  boggy  places,  the  rough  and 
crooked  pathways  that  we  sometimes  get  into,  are 
enough  to  make  our  faces  a  little  cloudy,  and  our 
souls  a  little  sorrowful,  so  long  as  we  can  see  no 
end  to  them ;  but  what  bewildered  and  benighted 
wanderer  ever  despairs  while  he  sees  before  him  3 


WE  SHALL  MEET  IN  HEAVEN.        207 

friendly  light  ?  What  weary  and  way-worn  travel- 
ler gives  way  to  despondency  while  he  discerns  m 
the  distance  the  door  of  his  own  cottage  open  to  re- 
ceive him  % 

The  assurance  that  "  we  shall  meet  in  heaven" 
is  a  cure  for  all  earthly  ills. 

But,  then,  is  the  saying  a  true  one  ?  Can  we  de- 
pend upon  it  %  Are  we  sure  that  we  shall  meet  in 
heaven  %  What  the  heart  says,  either  when  it  is  in 
trouble  or  in  joy,  is  very  uncertain  ;  and  what  tho 
world  says  is  still  less  to  be  depended  on  ;  therefore, 
we  must  go  to  the  words  of  unchangeable  truth  for 
a  reason  of  the  hope  that  is  within  us.  Will  tho 
word  of  God  warrant  the  expression  spoken  by  one 
follower  of  the  Redeemer  to  another,  u  We  shall 
meet  in  heaven  ?"  If  it  will  not,  we  have  darkness 
and  despondency  ;  if  it  will,  we  have  light  and  ex- 
ultation. 

Let,  then,  every  saint — and  what  is  a  saint  but  a 
pardoned  and  saved  sinner  ? — let  the  lowliest  disci- 
ple of  Jesus  Christ  take  courage,  and  gird  up  his 
loins,  and  not  faint  by  the  way  ;  for  these  words 
were  spoken  by  the  lips  of  the  Redeemer,  "  I  go  to 
prepare  a  place  for  you.  And  if  I  go  and  prepare 
a  place  for  you,  I  will  come  again,  and  receive  you 
unto  myself;  that  where  I  am,  there  ye  may  be 
also,"  John  xiv.  2,  3. 

Yes  !  yes  !  my  friend,  you  are  right !  "  we  shall 
meet  in  heaven,"  nor  can  the  dim  eye,  the  faltering 
frame,  and  desponding,  unbelieving  heart  prevent 


208  WE    SHALL   MEET   IN   HEAVEN. 

it ;  for  the  mouth  of  the  Lord  has  spoken  it.  You 
may  get  the  start  of  me.  You  may  be  in  heaven 
before  me.  You  may  say  to  me,  in  the'  language 
of  the  Bible  you  love,  "  Stand  here,  while  I  meet 
the  Lord  yonder ;"  but,  for  all  that,  "  we  shall  meo 
in  heaven." 


FOR  ME. 

Regarding  myself  as  a  part  of  that  bomidic«« 
whole,  that  immeasurable  creation  which  the  hand 
of  the  Almighty  has  formed,  and  receiving  as  I  dc 
daily  comfort  and  enjoyment  from  the  things  around 
me,  I  love  to  think  that  my  happiness  has  been  one 
of  the  ends  for  which  they  were  created.  The  very 
thought  is  enough  to  call  forth  thankfulness  in  my 
heart  and  soul,  and  to  fill  my  mouth  with  praises. 

I  know  that  the  creation  has  been  formed  for  the 
enjoyment  of  myriads  of  beings,  yet  still  it  was  not 
the  less  formed  for  me.  The  beauteous  clouds  tka* 
hang  like  a  canopy  around  the  world  ;  Springy 
Summer,  Autumn,  and  Winter  that  diversify  the 
earth,  are  charged  to  minister  to  my  welfare  and 
happiness. 


FOR   ME.  209 

The  sunlit  clouds  above  me  fair  and  free, 
And  changing  seasons,  onward  roll  for  me. 

When  I  hear  the  winds  gently  breathing  at  ruddy 
morn  or  dewy  eve,  or  when  they  rush  forth  resist- 
less in  their  course — when  I  regard  the  ebbing  or 
flowing  tide  of  the  world  of  waters,  or  gaze  with 
wonder  on  its  mountainous  billows  chafed  into  fury 
by  the  storm,  the  same  thought  pervades  my  mind- 
it  is  for  me  these  changes  are  made. 

For  me  the  winds  on  urgent  errands  ride, 
And  boundless  ocean  rolls  its  mighty  tide. 

The  moon,  that  glides  so  peacefully  through  the 
blue  vault  above  me,  is  distant  two  hundred  and 
forty  thousand  miles.  The  sun  that  gilds  creation 
with  its  beams  is  ninety-five  millions  of  miles  re- 
moved from  this  habitable  globe  ;  and  the  glittering 
stars  that  stud  the  skies  are  said  to  be  at  least  nine- 
teen millions  of  millions  of  miles  separated  from  us  j 
and  yet  as  an  intelligent  being  and  an  heir  of  im- 
mortality, profiting  by  their  existence  and  admiring 
their  beauty,  I  may  say,  in  grateful  acknowledge- 
ment to  their  almighty  Maker, 

Ye  glowing  balls !  ye  shining  orbs  of  heaven ! 
Sun,  moon,  and  stars,  for  me  your  light  is  given. 


13' 


HOW  OLD  ARE  YOU  1 

u  How  old  are  you  ?"  said  a  woman  to  an  aged 
man,  who  was  leaning  upon  two  sticks.  I  lingered 
to  hear  the  old  man's  reply.  "  I  Mall  be  fourscore" 
said  he,  "  if  I  live  till  next  Easter." 

Many  a  word  dropped  by  the  way-side  has  been 
picked  up  and  pondered  on  with  advantage  in  an 
after  hour ;  let  me,  then,  ask  you,  "  How  old  are 
you  ?" 

Are  you  ten  ?  because  if  you  are,  you  have  ten 
thousand  sins  to  repent  of,  and  ten  thousand  mercies 
to  be  grateful  for.  What  a  thought !  Did  you 
ever  think  of  it  before  ?  If  not,  it  is  worth  your 
while  to  think  of  it  now,  and  very  seriously  too, 
bearing  in  mind  that  youth  is  the  time  to  serve  the 
Lord ;  that  a  good  beginning  bids  fair  to  be  followed 
by  a  good  ending ;  that  "  dust  thou  art,  and  unto 
dust  shalt  thou  return,"  Gen.  iii.  19  ;  and  that  "  we 
shall  all  stand  before  the  judgment  seat  of  Christ," 
Rom.  xiv.  10. 

Are  you  twenty  or  thirty  ?  If  so,  you  have  sti* . 
more  sins  to  forsake,  and  more  mercies  thankful)  j 
to  acknowledge.  You  are  in  the  meridian  of  your 
day,  the  prime  of  your  life.  If  you  have  allowed 
your  youth  to  pass  unimproved,  run  no  further  risk, 


HOW   OLD    ARE    YOU?  211 

try  to  make  amends  for  the  past.  Up  and  be  doing ; 
call  upon  the  name  of  the  Lord.  Though  you  for- 
get a  thousand  things,  never  forget  "  it  is  appointed 
unto  men  once  to  die,  but  after  this  the  judgment," 
Heb.  ix.  2* 

Are  you  forty  or  fifty  ?  If  this  be  the  case, 
there  is  no  time  to  lose.  You  must  look  about  you, 
lest  the  shadows  of  night  overtake  you.  What 
have  you  done  for  the  glory  of  God  ?  What  are 
you  doing  ?  What  do  you  intend  to  do  ?  More  than 
half  your  life  is  gone  by,  even  though  your  days 
should  be  long  in  the  land.  If  you  have  not  yet 
made  up  your  mind  to  forsake  sin,  and  to  cling  to 
the  cross  of  the  Redeemer,  read,  mark,  learn,  and 
inwardly  digest  the  following  passage  in  the  word 
of  God :  "  The  wages  of  sin  is  death  ;  but  the  gift 
of  God  is  eternal  life  through  Jesus  Christ  our 
Lord,"   Rom.  vi.  23. 

Are  you  sixty  or  seventy  ?  Do  you  answer,  Yes. 
Then  I  hope  that  while  your  feet  are  on  the  earth, 
your  eyes  and  your  heart  are  fixed  upon  heaven. 
Is  it  necessary  to  remind  you,  that  your  days  are 
drawing  to  a  close,  that  your  life  is  as  a  spider's 
web  ?  "  The  days  of  our  years  are  threescore 
years  and  ten ;  and  if  by  reason  of  strength  they 
be  fourscore  years,  yet  is  their  strength  labour  and 
sorrow ;  for  it  is  soon  cut  ofT,  and  we  fly  away," 
Psa.  xc.  10.  Death  is  at  the  very  door.  Flee  from 
the  wrath  to  come,  and  ponder  on  the  passage, 


212  HOW   OLD    ARE   YOU? 

a  Blessed  are  the  dead  which  die  in  the  Lord,"  Rev. 
xiv.  13. 

If  to  the  question,  "  How  old  are  you  ?"  you  can 
give  the  same  reply  as  the  old  man  did,  "  /  shall  be 
fourscore,  if  I  live  till  next  Easter"  you  are  abso- 
lutely beside  yourself  if  you  are  not  daily  looking 
forward  to  eternity.  If  the  warning  voice  whispers 
to  youth,  and  speaks  audibly  to  manhood,  it  cries 
aloud  to  you.  Not  only  with  your  mouth,  but  with 
your  heart  you  should  say,  "  There  is  but  a  step  be- 
tween me  and  death,"  1  Sam.  xx.  3.  If  you  have 
not,  long  ago,  fled  for  refuge  to  the  cross,  and  ob- 
tained mercy  from  the  Saviour  of  sinners,  go  now, 
even  at  the  eleventh  hour :  think  of  the  innumera- 
ble, the  heaped  up  transgressions  of  your  youth, 
your  manhood,  and  old  age.  Lose  not  a  day,  an 
hour,  a  moment,  in  applying  to  Him  who  "  is  able 
to  save  them  to  the  uttermost  that  come  unto  God 
by  him,  seeing  he  ever  liveth  to  make  intercession 
for  them,"  Heb.  vii.  25.  Since  you  first  drew  breath, 
more  than  four  thousand  sabbaths  have  passed 
away.  The  sun  has  risen  and  set  between  twenty 
and  thirty  thousand  times,  and  thousands  of  millions 
of  human  beings  have  passed  from  time  into  eter- 
nity.    Still  there  is  mercy. 

But,  if  your  treasure  and  your  heart  be  in  heaven, 
why  then,  be  of  good  courage  ;  though  flesh  and 
heart  fail  you,  God  will  be  the  strength  of  your 
heart,  and  your  portion  for  ever.  Go  on,  traveller ; 
for  you  may  even  now  see  the  end  of  your  journey 


HOW   OLD   ARE   YOU?  213 

You  have  born  the  heat  and  burden  of  the  day ; 
you  have  passed  through  briers  and  thorns  ;  you 
have  but  a  little  further  to  travel ;  endure  to  the 
end,  and  you  shall  be  saved.  The  older  you  are, 
the  nearer  to  heaven !  the  heavier  your  load,  the 
greater  your  deliverance  !  The  darker  your  path- 
way below,  the  brighter  your  glory  above.  Sin, 
and  tears,  and  sorrow  shall  pass  away ;  and  "  when 
Christ,  who  is  our  life,  shall  appear,  then  shall  ye 
also  appear  with  him  in  glory,"  Col.  iii.  4. 


TOWN  AND  COUNTRY. 

"  [  wish,"  says  a  town  friend,  "  you  had  accom- 
panied me  to  Exeter  Hall ;  there  is  something  so 
animating  in  the  addresses  of  Christian  men,  when 
their  eloquence  is  that  of  the  heart,  called  forth  by 
a  grateful  sense  of  the  abundant  mercies  of  their 
heavenly  Father. 

"  I  wish,"  says  a  friend  in  the  country,  "  you 
could  see  the  primroses,  the  cowslips  and  the  blue 
bells  around  me,  with  the  golden  green  of  the 
beeches  bursting  forth  in  the  woods,  and  then  you 
would  not  be  surpised  to  find  that  halleluiahs  are 
irrepressible.     The  Psalmist  found  them  so ;  and  I, 


214  TOWN    AND    COUNTRY. 

too,  feel  inclined  to  call  on  all  the  trees  around  ma 
to  clap  their  hands  with  louder  chorus  than  ever 
burst  from  Exeter  Hall.  You  should  have  been 
with  me  this  morning,  to  have  seen  the  gleams  of 
living  light,  glancing  on  the  beech  woods  while  the 
freshening  gale  made  the  towering  trees  bow  their 
radiant  heads,  as  if  in  adoration  of  their  great  Cre- 
ator ;  and  then  I  feel  certain,  that  many  lively  poetic 
feelings  and  many  glowing  devout  affections  would 
have  been  kindled  in  your  heart." 

Thus  beset  on  all  sides  with  Christian  provoca- 
tion, marvel  not  that,  growing  a  little  warm,  not 
with  anger  but  with  thankfulness,  I  should  cry  out 
aloud,  "  Praise  God  in  his  sanctuary !  Praise  him 
in  the  firmament  of  his  power !  Let  every  thing 
that  hath  breath  praise  the  Lord  I"  Psa.  cl.  1,  6. 


WHO'S  THE  NEXT? 

Here  comes  the  cheerful  old  man  with  his  vege- 
tables. So  sure  as  the  morning  comes,  so  sure  docs 
he  come  too,'  with  his  horse  and  cart.  He  is  usu- 
ally dressed  in  an  old  great  coat  and  blue  apron ; 
and  his  cart  plentifully  supplied  with  potatoes, 
greens,  celery,  parsely,  bunches  of  turnips  piled  up 


who's  the  next?  215 

at  the  front,  and  bunches  of  carrots  hanging  round 
the  sides,  is  quite  a  picture.  The  old  man  has 
something  lively  to  say  to  every  customer,  and  his 
horse  knows  where  to  stop,  and  when  to  go  on,  al- 
most as  well  as  his  master.  As  the  seasons  go  round, 
a  change  takes  place  in  his  merchandize.  In  the 
spring,  he  adds  fresh  radishes  and  young  cabbages 
to  his  stock  ;  in  the  summer,  peas,  beans,  lettuces 
and  cauliflowers ;  in  the  autumn,  fruits  of  various 
kinds,  and  in  the  winter,  laurel,  prickly  holly,  and 
white-berried  mistletoe.  The  dry  wind  may  blow, 
or  the  rain  come  down  in  showers ;  the  sun  may 
throw  his  burning  beams  around,  or  the  flakes  of 
snow  fall  thickly  one  upon  another  ;  but  they  never 
hasten  or  delay  the  old  man's  appearance.  At  the 
accustomed  hour  his  horse  and  cart  are  sure  to  stop 
at  the  doors  of  his  customers.  Now  this  old  man 
has  a  singular  custom  of  crying  out  in  a  sharp, 
shrill  voice  every  time  he  serves,  a  customer, 
"Who's  the  next?"  Before  he  has  received  the 
money  for  his  stuff,  even  while  he  mounts  his  cart 
to  pull  a  bunch  of  turnips  from  the  top  of  the  pile, 
or  weighs  in  his  scales  the  potatoes  he  is  selling,  he 
he  calls  out,  "  Who's  the  next  ?  Who's  the  next  ?" 
The  other  morning  as  I  sat  with  pen,  ink,  and 
paper,  before  me,  musing  on  the  various  changes 
that  had  taken  place  in  the  last  year ;  sometimes 
thinking  of  those  who  had  left  the  neighbourhood 
to  pitch  their  tent  in  another  place ;  and  sometimes 
reflecting  on  those  who  had  been  called  away  from 


216  who's  the  next? 

this  world  of  mingled  joys  and  sorrows ;  while  I 
sat,  thus  musing,  the  sound  of  the  old  man's  voice 
broke  upon  my  ear,  "  Who's  the  next  ?  Who's  the 
next  ?"  and  lifting  up  my  head  I  observed  a  hearse 
with  its  nodding  plumes  slowly  passing  by.  Before 
it  walked  the  mutes  with  their  staves  clothed ;  on 
each  side  were  men  with  shorter  staves,  and  behind 
came  the  mourning  coaches.  Whether  a  father  of 
a  family  was  being  conveyed  to  his  long  home,  or 
whether  a  beloved  mother  had  been  summoned  to 
the  eternal  world,  I  could  not  tell ;  however  this 
might  be,  the  spirit  of  a  fellow-creature  had  winged 
its  way  from  time  to  eternity,  and  the  breathless 
body  was  about  to  be  committed  to  the  grave, 
"  Ashes  to  ashes,  and  dust  to  dust."  No  wonder, 
then,  that  the  call  of  the  old  man  affected  me. 
u  Who's  the  next  ?  Who's  the  next ?"  cried  he,  at 
the  very  moment  the  hearse  passed  by,  and  the  in- 
quiry seemed  to  sink  into  my  heart. 

It  is  true  that  the  old  man  had  no  thought  of  the 
breathless  being  about  to  be  committed  to  the  tomb ; 
he  only  meant  to  inquire  who  would  be  his  next 
customer,  but  to  me  it  sounded  awfully.  A  fellow 
mortal  was  being  conveyed  to  the  house  appointed 
for  all  living,  where  thousands  have  already  gone, 
where  thousands  must  still  go,  and  the  thrilling  in- 
quiry, "  Who's  the  next?"  appeared  to  be  directed 
to  me  and  to  all  around. 

If  it  pleased  God  always  to  remove  the  sick,  and 
to  leave  those  who  are  in  health ;  to  smite  the  aged, 


who's  the  next?  217 

and  to  preserve  the  young,  we  should  be  in  less 
doubt  about  who  would  next  be  called  away  from 
the  world,  but  this  is  not  the  case ;  the  strong  man 
is  sometimes  cut  down  in  an  instant  like  a  blade  of 
grass  by  the  mower's  scythe ;  the  child,  nay  the 
babe  at  its  mother's  breast,  is  nipped  and  destroyed 
like  a  flower  by  the  frost.  We  cannot  tell,  then, 
whose  turn  is  approaching.  "  Who's  the  next?"  is 
a  fit  inquiry  for  us  all. 

Is  it  not  a  little  strange  that  wre  should  think  so 
much  of  things  which  are  uncertain,  and  so  little 
of  what  is  certain  ?  that  we  should  prepare  for  what 
may  never  happen,  and  make  no  preparation  at  all 
for  what  must  happen?  The  warning  words  of 
holy  Scripture  should  tingle  in  every  careless  ear  ; 
for  it  will  apply  to  us  all.  "  As  the  Lord  liveth, 
and  as  thy  soul  liveth,  there  is  but  a  step  between 
me  and  death."  In  a  short  time,  it  may  be  said  to 
every  one  who  fears  not  God,  "  Thou  fool !  this 
night  thy  soul  shall  be  required  of  thee."  If  we 
read  our  Bibles  more  diligently,  and  pondered  more 
thoughtfully  on  the  manifold  passages  that  bid  us 
prepare  for  our  latter  end,  we  should  look  around 
us  anxiously  and  the  question,  "  Who's  the  next?" 
would  be  more  frequently  in  our  mouths. 

It  is  said  that  the  sultan  Saladin  had  a  shroud 
carried  before  him,  to  remind  him  of  death  ;  we  all 
require  something  to  remind  us  of  the  same  thing, 
and  you  must  not  think  hardly  of  me  if  I  have 
gently  and  quietly  led  you  along,  by  my  account  of 
19 


218  who's  the  next? 

the  old  man  and  his  cart  of  vegetables,  to  ponder  a 
moment  on  your  latter  end.  Who  is  the  next 
among  us  to  enter  eternity  we  cannot  tell,  nor  will 
it  much  matter,  if  we  are  prepared  for  death  by 
having  an  interest  in  Christ  Jesus. 

There  are  thousands  who  have  been  in  bondage 
all  their  lives  long  through  fear  of  death ;  now,  this 
is  a  sad  state  to  be  in,  and  yet  there  is  no  cure  for  it 
but  a  lively  faith  in  the  merits  and  sacrifice  of  our 
blessed  Redeemer.  If  God  is  against  us,  we  have 
nothing  to  hope ;  if  He  be  our  Friend,  we  have 
nothing  to  fear.  What  a  mercy,  then,  instead  of 
trembling  at  the  thought  of  death,  to  rejoice  in  the 
hope  set  before  us,  and  to  be  able  to  say,  "  Though 
I  walk  through  the  valley  of  the  shadow  of  death, 
I  will  fear  no  evil :  for  thou  art  with  me  ;  thy  rod 
and  thy  staff  they  comfort  me."  Oh  that  we  may 
all,  then,  seek  the  Saviour  with  all  our  heart,  with 
all  our  soul,  and  with  all  our  strength  :  his  promises 
are  very  precious,  and  what  he  has  promised  he  is 
able  and  willing  to  perform.  "  Be  thou  faithful  unto 
death,  and  I  will  give  thee  a  crown  of  life."  '•  Pre- 
cious in  the  sight  of  the  Lord  is  the  death  of  his 
saints."  "  Blessed  are  the  dead  which  die  in  the 
Lord" 

Let  us  ponder  these  things  more  deeply,  that 
when  the  qu<  stion  solemnly  occurs  to  us,  Who  is 
the  next  to  enter  eternity?  we  may  fee]  no  fear,  but, 
confiding  in  the  promise  of  eternal  life  given  in  the 


who's  the  next?  219 

gospel  of  Jesus  Christ,  rather  rejoice,  and  say,  "  O 
death,  where  is  thy  sting  ?  O  grave,  where  is  thy 
victory  ?" 


THE  ALLEGORY. 


"  I  have,"  says  one  in  a  written  communication 
to  me,  "  a  dear  packet  of  letters  of  my  father,  as 
well  as  a  broken  likeness  of  him,  and  sketches 
drawn  by  his  very  own  hand,  and  many  other  things 
that  he  gave  me.  These  are  all  very  pleasant  to 
me  while  he  is  aicay,  but  when  we  meet,  down  will 
go  the  letters  !  Any  one  may  take  the  likeness,  the 
sketches  he  drew  for  me,  and  all  the  rest ;  for,  hang- 
ing on  his  neck,  I  shall  forget  everything  but  him- 
self, and  look  on  nothing  but  his  face !" 

Now  these  things  are  an  allegory !  At  least  as 
such  I  will  regard  them.  We  have  a  goodly  packet 
of  letters  of  our  heavenly  Father  in  the  Holy 
Scriptures  !  We  have  a  likeness  of  Him,  imperfect 
and  broken  though  it  be,  in  his  glorious  creation. 
We  have  sketches  of  his  gooduess  in  the  changing 
seasons,  and  gifts  of  his  love  without  number  in 
providence  and  in  grace  ;  but  glorious  as  these  are 
now,  when  "  death  is  swallowed  up  in  victory." 


220  THE   ALLEGORY. 

they  will  be  as  nothing  to  us  ;  for  we  shall  then  see 
the  face  of  our  heavenly  Father,  and  he  will  be  all 
in  all. 


THE  SERMON. 

The  other  day,  after  walking  some  time  in  the 
fields,  I  found  myself,  before  I  was  aware,  in  the 
very  middle  of  an  animated  sermon,  preached  to 
myself  from  the  text,  "  Why  should  it  be  thought  a 
thing  incredible  with  you,  that  God  should  raise  the 
dead  ?"  Acts  xxiv.  8.  "  Look  around,  my  soul," 
said  I,  "  and  believe  nothing,  or  else  believe  every 
thing  that  God  has  spoken.  Look  around  on  the 
wonders  of  creation,  and  hearken  again  to  the  inqui- 
ry, '  Why  should  it  be  thought  a  thing  incredible 
with  you  that  God  should  raise  the  dead?'  "    Why  ? 

The  sun  was  blazing  in  the  firmament  of  heaven, 
the  birds  were  warbling  in  the  air,  and  the  flowers 
and  green  trees  were  blooming  on  the  earth ;  but 
they  gave  me  no  reply.  There  was  no  answer 
either  from  creation,  or  my  own  heart.  I  felt  at 
that  moment  that  I  did  believe  in  the  resurrection: 
ay,  as  truly  as  if  I  had  put  my  fingers  into  the  nail- 
prints  of  my  Redeemer's  hands,  and  thrust  my  hand 


THE    SERMON.  221 

into  his  side  ;  and  I  cried  out  aloud  in  the  fulness 
of  my  faith  and  joy,  "  My  Lord  and  my  God  1" 
John  xx.  25. 


FAITH  AND  PATIENCE. 

Oh,  how  I  love  to  look  through  the  telescope,  for 
it  brings  distant  things  so  very  near,  and  makes 
them  appear  so  very  plain  !  Think  not  that  I  am 
speaking  of  the  wooden  tube  and  glasses  sold  by  the 
optician.  No  !  I  am  speaking  of  the  telescope  of 
faith  given  in  mercy  by  the  Kirrg  of  kings ;  for 
faith  is  the  gift  of  God,  Eph.  ii.  8.  How  nimbly 
we  walk  !  How  strong  we  feel !  How  cheerfully 
we  smile  when  looking  through  this  telescope ! 
Simeon  looked  through  it,  and  cried  out  in  trans- 
port, "  Lord,  now  lettest  thou  thy  servant  depart  in 
peace,  according  to  thy  word :  for  mine  eyes  have 
seen  thy  salvation."  Luke  ii.  30.  Stephen  looked 
through  it  even  when  the  stones  were  flying  about 
him,  and  feared  nothing,  for  he  saw  "  the  glory  of 
God !"  Acts  vii.  55.  Those  who  look  through  this 
telescope  often  feel  alive,  yea  have  their  hearts  filled 
with  joy,  while  others  are  fast  asleep  or  quaking 
with  fear.  It  is  otherwise  when  the  telescope  is  put 
19* 


222  FAITH   AND   PATIENCE. 

down,  things  are  farther  off  It  is  then,  "  I  shall 
see  him,  but  not  now :  I  shall  behold  him,  but  not 
nigh,  Num.  xxiv.  17.  .Still  we  must  be  patient; 
for  it  is  through  faith  and  patience  that  the  promises 
are  to  be  obtained.     See  Heb.  vi.  12. 

When  we  look  through  this  telescope,  God's  ar- 
rangements appear  to  be  exceedingly  wise  and  good. 
It  is  indeed  a  wonderful  and  delightful  arrangement 
that  while  the  Father  of  mercies  changes  not,  but 
remains  the  same  "  yesterday,  to-day,  and  forever," 
everything  is  changing  around  us  in  nature,  provi- 
dence, and  grace.  We  are  often  for  hurrying  things 
forwards,  wanting  the  fruit  before  the  blossom,  and 
the  blossom  before  the  leaves ;  but  it  is  of  no  use, 
we  must  be  patient.  "  He  that  believeth  shall  not 
make  haste."  God  is  sometimes  slow  in  his  move- 
ments, but  they  are  at  length  found  to  be  grand, 
harmonious  and  glorious  movements  for  all  that. 


THE  STORK  WITH  THE 
BROKEN  BILL. 

u  "Without  me  ye  can  do  nothing."    John  xv.  5. 

I  well  remember  seeing,  some  years  ago,  at  the 
Zoological  gardens  in  the  Regent's  park,  a  Stork 
with  a  broken  bill :  a  portion,  at  least,  of  two  inches 
of  the  lower  mandible  had  by  some  accident  been 
broken  off,  so  that  it  was  impossible  for  the  poor 
bird  to  pick  up  a  particle  of  food.  Many  of  the  vis- 
itors, especially  of  the  youngs'  part  of  them,  threw 
fruit  and  pieces  of  cake  and  gingerbread  into  the 
aviary,  some  of  which  fell  on  the  ground,  and  some 
in  the  water  ;  but  though  the  other  birds  freely  par- 
took of  such  food  as  suited  their  taste,  the  stork  with 
the  broken  bill  could  not  partake  of  the  repast. 

It  was  a  distressing  sight  to  see  the  poor  bird 
pushing  the  food  about  with  his  upper  mandible, 
and  opening  his  bill  from  time  to  time,  with  the  de- 
sire and  expectation  of  laying  hold  of  the  tempting 
piece  before  him.  For  half  an  hour  I  stood  watch- 
ing him,  and  though  never  successful,  the  forlorn 
creature  still  went  on  vainly  endeavoring  to  satisfy 
his  craving  appetite.  The  keeper  who  had  the 
care  of  him,  told  me  that  the  bill  would  be  mended3 


224  THE    STORK   WITH   THE   BROKEN   BILL. 

by  adding  a  piece  of  wood,  in  the  shape  of  a  bill, 
to  the  broken  part ;  but  whether  this  was  ever  done 
I  cannot  say. 

How  often  since  that  time,  when  vainly  endea- 
vouring to  pick  up  consolation  and  profit  from 
God's  holy  word,  have  I  been  reminded  of  the  poor 
stork.  With  the  bread  of  heaven  before  us,  we  may 
suffer  hunger,  but  for  Him  who  careth  for  us.  He 
can  accompany  the  reading  of  the  word  with  the 
influence  of  his  Holy  Spirit.  He  who  feedeth  the 
ravens  must  feed  us,  or  we  die  with  famine ;  for  we 
cannot  feed  ourselves. 


THE  OLD  HOVEL. 

Do  you  see  that  old  shattered  hovel  yonder? 
There  it  stands,  and  there  it  has  stood  ever  since  I 
can  remember  any  thing.  Many  a  game  of  play 
have  I  had  in  the  days  of  my  boyhood  behind  the 
hay-ricks  at  Farmer  Mitchell's,  and  many  a  time 
have  I  taken  shelter  from  the  storm  in  that  old 
hovel. 

You  may,  perhaps,  think  that  it  was  new  then; 
but  no  ;  it  was  much  the  same  as  it  is  now,  except 
that  there  were  not  so  many  cobwebs  in  the  corners 


THE   OLD    HOVEL.  225 

that  the  hoards  were  not  quite  so  black,  and  that  the 
thatch  had  only  half  as  many  holes  in  it. 

When  I  returned  home  from  school,  though  the 
old  pit  was  filled  up,  and  the  old  pound  taken  quite 
away,  yet  the  old  hovel  was  standing  there  still, 
with  its  half  thatched  top,  peeping  over  the  little 
hedge,  as  ugly  as  ever. 

After  another  absence  of  two  or  three  years,  I 
again  returned  home.  "  Oh,"  thinks  I,  "  the  old 
hovel  has  been  down  this  many  a  day ;"  but  no 
sooner  did  I  pass  the  blacksmith's  shop  and  get  a 
view  of  farmer  Mitchell's  rick  yard,  than  I  saw  it 
standing  just  where  it  did,  and  in  much  the  same 
situation.  There  was  an  old  worn-out  cart-horse, 
that  I  suppose  the  farmer  did  not  like  to  have  killed, 
standing  at  the  entrance  of  the  old  hovel ;  one 
seemed  just  to  suit  the  other  ;  they  looked  as  though 
they  belonged  to  other  times.  The  new  sign,  the 
smart  front  of  the  tan-house,  and  the  white  painted 
finger-post  were  too  smart  for  them ;  "  Well," 
thinks  I,  "  though  the  old  hovel  is  still  standing,  it 
must  be  almost  done  over :  one  of  these  days  down 
it  will  come." 

This  is  a  changing  world:  and  if  you  look  at  a 
family  of  a  dozen  people  ever  so  happy,  it  is  ten  to 
one  but  in  a  few  years  they  will  be  found  living  in 
half  a  dozen  different  places  :  that  is,  if  they  are  all 
then  alive  :  "  for  what  is  our  life  1  it  is  even  a  va- 
pour, that  appeareth  for  a  little  time,  and  then  van- 
isheth  away,"  James  iv.  14. 


226  THE   OLD   HOVEL. 

Once  again  I  left  the  village  for  a  longer  time 
than  before ;  and  when  I  came  back,  the  church 
spire  had  been  new  shingled,  and  the  weathercock 
regilt.  A  grand  house  had  been  built  by  Squire 
Vernon,  near  the  clump  of  firs  on  the  hill ;  the 
thatched  cottages  on  the  bank  side  were  now  all 
roofed  with  red  tiles  ;  farmer  Mitchell's  house  had 
a  new  bow-window  looking  into  the  garden,  and  the 
old  broken  cross  on  the  green  was  taken  away. 
u  Well,"  thinks  I,  observing  these  changes,  a  I  sup- 
pose I  shall  hardly  be  able  to  point  out  the  spot 
where  the  old  hovel  stood:  no  doubt  it  tumbled 
down  shortly  after  I  left  the  village."  What  was 
my  surprise  on  looking  over  farmer  Mitchell's  fold- 
yard  gate,  towards  the  rick-yard,  again  to  see  the 
ugly  black  top  of  the  old  hovel  1  I  scarcely  be- 
lieved it  possible  ;  yet,  there  it  was  ;  there  it  is  now, 
and  for  ought  I  know,  there  it  will  be  for  years  to 
come.  Trees,  cottages,  and  houses  have  been  pulled 
down ;  yet  there  still  stands  the  old  hovel,  with  its 
cobweb-bed  corners,  broken  boards,  and  shattered 
black  thatch,  uglier  than  ever. 

It  is  an  odd  thing,  but,  so  long  have  I  been  accus- 
tomed to  look  upon  the  old  hovel,  that,  ugly  as  it  is, 
I  shall  regret  it  when  it  falls.  Down  it  must  come, 
that  is  certain :  it  will  soon  be  a  heap  of  ruins,  for 
it  is  little  better  than  that  now.  Like  the  old  hovel, 
the  tenements  about  us,  and  the  frail  bodies  we  in- 
habit, may  endure  a  few  more  summers  and  win- 
ters ;  but  at  last  they  must  perish  in  the  dust.     Oh 


THE   OLD   HOVEL.  227 

may  I  ever  be  enabled  to  say  with  Job,  "  I  know 
that  my  Redeemer  liveth,"  Job  xix.  25.  Let  'us 
look  for  his  mercy,  that  when  our  earthly  taberna- 
cles are  dissolved,  we  may  have  "a  building  of 
God,  an  house  not  made  with  hands,  eternal  in  the 
heavens,"  2  Cor.  v.  1.  Let  us  look,  by  faith,  "for 
a  city  which  hath  foundations,  whose  builder  and 
maker  is  God."  Heb.  xi.  10. 


HAVE  YOU  WOUND  UP  THE  CLOCK? 

O  how  I  love  industry  and  energy,  and  how 
heartily  do  I  hate  a  drawling,  dragging,  heavy 
heeled  way  of  going  through  the  world!  It  is 
now  the  first  of  January  ;  let  this  be  our  motto  for 
the  future — "Up  and  be  doing!"  But  what  new 
plan  have  you  got  for  the  new  year  ?  Are  we  to 
go  on  in  the  old,  humdrum  way,  as  before,  or  are 
we  to  quicken  our  pace  on  the  road  to  heaven  ?  We 
have  now  a  year  less  time  than  we  had,  in  which  to 
perform  our  journey.  Is  there  no  way,  think  you 
of  jogging  each  other's  elbows,  of  brushing  up 
each  other's  energies,  and  encouraging  each  other's 
hearts  ?  I  warrant  you  there  is  ;  let  us  try  if,  look- 
ing upwards,  and  journeying  onwards,  we  cannot 


22S  HAVE   YOU  WOUND   UP   THE    CLOCK? 

improve  the  snail's  pace  at  which  we  have  been 
moving.  When  I  look  at  the  magnitude  of  my  own 
mercies,  and  the  pitiful  scraps  and  parings  of  time 
that  I  have  devoted  to  the  great  Giver  of  all,  I  could 
blush  crimson-red  with  shame,  and  bid  "  rivers  of 
waters  run  down  mine  eyes."  What  error  have  I 
corrected  in  my  heart  %  What  Christian  grace  have 
I  attained  ?  What  have  I  done  for  the  welfare  of 
my  fellow-sinners  ?  or  what  for  the  glory  of  the 
Redeemer  ?  Alas  !  alas  !  Ephraim  Holding  has 
reason  to  hang  down  his  head  as  the  bulrush,  and 
to  hide  his  face  with  both  his  hands  !  But  again  I 
say,  up  and  be  doing,  for  the  blubbering  of  the  care- 
less child  will  not  mend  his  broken  jug ;  neither 
will  the  vain  regrets  of  an  old  man  recall  the  time 
that  he  has  wasted.  The  year  is  before  us  ;  now 
let  us  not  be  satisfied  in  wishing  each  other  a  happy 
return  of  the  season !  Let  us  not  be  content  in 
talking  about  "  a  merry  Christmas,  and  a  happy 
new  year,"  but  rather  make  a  fresh  start  together, 
with  our  faces  turned  toward  heaven,  and  a  song  of 
thanksgiving  in  our  mouths. 

Ephraim  Holding  has  a  plan  in  his  he-ad  that  he 
thinks  may  be  useful :  a  plan  that  will  suit  the  in- 
mates of  a  small  house,  and  a  great  one  ;  a  labour- 
er's cottage,  and  a  kings  palace.  It  may  be  prac- 
tised with  advantage  by  the  poorest  householder, 
and  the  Emperor  of  all  the  Russias  !  The  plan  is 
this — to  make  common  things  and  common  events 
useful ;  to  turn  even  our  every-day  household  affairs 


ftAVL  yoTj  tvuutcd  m  iwe  clock?        229 

to  advantage.  Why  should  we  not  get  a  lesson  of 
regularity  from  the  clock,  of  zeal  from  the  fire,  of 
polish  from  the  tables,  of  steadiness  from  the  chairs, 
of  cleanliness  from  the  broom,  and  of  purity  from 
the  pump  water  ?  There  are  about  a  dozen  obser- 
vations, so  common-place  in  domestic  life,  that  they 
may  be  heard,  one  or  other  of  them,  in  every  house, 
on  every  day  of  the  year.  I  shall  try  to  turn  these 
to  advantage.  The  thought  may  be  an  odd  one,  but 
never  mind  that ;  come,  let  us  give  it  a  fair  trial. 

HAVE   YOU   WOUND   UP   THE   CLOCK? 

Have  you  wound  up  the  clock 7  I  ask  you: 
Have  you  wound  up  the  clock  ?  This  may  appear, 
at  first,  a  very  unimportant  question,  but  a  little  con- 
sideration may  change  our  view  of  the  case ;  we 
may  see  things  in  a  different  light,  and  be  ready  to 
acknowledge  that  the  inquiry,  Have  you  wound  up 
the  clock  ?  is  a  very  important  one.  I  think  I  can 
make  it  appear  that  the  circumstance,  that  one  man 
is  rich,  while  another  remains  poor — that  one  man 
is  surrounded  with  comforts,  while  another  is  com- 
fortless— that  one  man  vt  a  man  of  energy  and  en- 
terprise, and  another  a  man  of  apathy,  unequal  to 
any  undertaking,  depends  pretty  much  upon  this, 
that  one  has,  and  the  other  has  not,  wound  up  the 
clock. 

If  the  clock  be  neglected,  and  not  wound  up  at 
all,  the  whole  domestic  establishment  will  be  thrown 
into  confusion  ;  order  will  be  altogether  destroyed, 
20 


230  HAVE   YOU   WOUND   UP   THE    CLOCK? 

and,  without  order,  comfort  is  out  of  the  question. 
If  the  clock  be  wound  up,  though  the  act  occupy- 
no  more  than  two  minutes,  yet  the  clock  will  go  for 
eight  days.  Thus,  you  see,  by  devoting  two  minutes 
to  the  clock,  it  repays  you  with  eight  day's  labour. 
How  pleased  a  farmer  would  be  if  he  could  get 
such  an  abundant  harvest  as  this  from  the  grain  he 
commits  to  the  ground  ?  How  brisk  a  tradesman 
would  look  if  he  could  secure  such  a  profit  as  this 
on  the  goods  he  sells  !  Whether  you  are  a  farmer, 
a  tradesman,  a  rich  landlord,  or  a  poor  householder, 
whoever,  or  whatever  you  may  be,  never  neglect  to 
wind  up  the  clock. 

But  if  such  an  advantage  be  obtained  from  the 
clock  that  ticks  on  the  stairs,  the  piece  of  machinery 
with  the  painted  face,  the  pointing  fingers,  the  re- 
volving wheels,  and  the  swinging  pendulum;  if 
this  be  the  case  with  the  instrument  called  a  clock, 
which  is  mere  lifeless  matter,  how  much  more  is  it 
so  with  the  human  clock,  the  soul-animated  frame 
of  which  we  are  composed  1  It  is  this  clock,  the 
body,  soul,  and  spirit  set  in  motion,  of  which  Ephraim 
Holding  speaks,  when  he  says  the  question  is  a 
very,  very  important  one — Have  you  wound  up  the 
clock  ? 

We  are  all  of  us  too  much  disposed  to  take  what 
we  have  done  as  the  proper  measure  or  standard  of 
what  we  ought  to  do,  but  this  is  an  error  ;  most  of 
us  might  do  much  more  and  much  better  than  we 
do  in  many  ways ;  we  only  want  winding  up.     It 


HAVE   YOU   WOUND   uf>   THE    CLOCK?  231 

is  wonderful  how  active  a  man  becomes  wThen  he  has 
a  bag  of  money  before  him,  or  a  mad  dog  behind 
him.  He  is  absolutely  another  creature  ;  fresh  life 
seems  to  pervade  every  limb,  and  he  surprises  even 
himself  by  his  unwonted  alacrity.  When  men  run 
a  race,  they  gird  up  their  loins  ;  when  they  go  to 
battle,  they  gather  up  their  strength :  they  are  urged 
on  by  the  object  they  have  in  view.  Have  you  no 
commendable  object  before  you  for  the  new  year  ? 
If  you  have,  are  you  determined  resolutely  to  pur- 
sue it  ?  have  you  girded  up  your  loins  %  have  you 
gathered  up  your  strength  %  have  you  wound  up  the 
clock  ? 

Ephraim  Holding  has  set  his  heart  upon  one  thing, 
and  that  is,  to  set  you  all  thinking  and  doing.  Ay, 
whether  you  will  or  not,  he  is  determined  to  wind 
you  up  to  some  useful  purpose.  An  attempt  shall  be 
made,  and  made  in  the  very  spirit  of  integrity  and 
determination  too,  to  draw  forth  your  good  qualities, 
and  to  drive  back  your  bad  ones.  Something  must 
be  done  by  me,  and  something  must  be  done  by  you, 
and  that  something  must  be  set  about  directly. 

It  matters  but  little  whether  many  of  our  actions 
are  done  to-day  or  to-morrow,  this  year,  or  the  next, 
or,  indeed,  whether  they  are  done  at  all ;  but  there 
are  others  that  ought  to  be  done  instantly.  It  is  of 
little  use  to  put  your  letter  in  the  post-office  when 
the  mail-bags  are  made  up.  If  the  farmer  loses 
seed-time  he  reaps  no  harvest :  if  the  mariner  loses 
the  wind  and  tide,  his  ship  will  be  weather-bound • 


232         HAVE  you  wound  up  the  clock  ? 

besides,  many  actions,  when  once  begun,  go  on  of 
themselves.  Put  a  kettle  on  the  fire,  and  it  will 
boil  without  further  trouble  ;  plant  a  sapling  in  the 
ground,  and  it  will  grow  and  blossom,  and  bear  of 
its  own  accord  ;  hoist  a  sail,  and  the  winds  of  hea- 
ven will  waft  your  boat  onward,  wThether  you  are 
awake  or  asleep.  Now,  if  there  be  any  reason  in 
these  remarks,  you  will  show  your  good  sense  in 
profiting  by  them. 

When  Ephraim  Holding  talks  about  kettles  boil- 
ing, saplings  growing,  and  sails  being  hoisted,  he  does 
not  mean  to  direct  your  attention  to  mere  kettles, 
saplings,  and  sails.  No,  no  !  He  no  more  means 
these  things  than  he  meant  a  common  clock,  when 
he  asked  you  the  question,  Have  you  wound  up  the 
clock  ? 

He  who  sets  the  good  resolutions  and  kindly  af- 
fections of  those  around  him  bubbling  and  boiling, 
does  more  than  put  a  kettle  on  the  fire ;  he  who 
plants  a  useful  suggestion,  a  holy  thought,  or  pious 
principle  in  the  mind  of  others,  does  a  better  thing 
than  setting  a  sapling ;  and  they  who  disperse 
abroad  sound  knowledge,  practical  information,  and 
true  wisdom  among  society,  may  be  more  benefi- 
cially employed  than  in  spreading  the  sails  of  a  sev- 
enty-four. It  is  in  tin's  way  that  Ephraim  Holding 
wishes  to  employ  you.  It  is  in  this  sense  that  he 
will  inquire  again  and  again,  Have  you  wound  up 
the  clock  ? 

Let  us  try  to  be  more  watchful  over  ourselves, 


HAVE   YOU   WOUND   UP   THE    CLOCK?  233 

more  forbearing  towards  others.  Let  us  show  more 
Jove  for  the  young,  more  respect  for  the  aged,  and 
more  kindness  of  heart  for  all.  Oh,  that  envy,  and 
hatred,  and  malice,  and  all  uncharitableness  could 
be  done  away,  and  that  kindness  and  affection,  and 
mercy  and  peace,  could  fill  our  very  souls  ! 

I  know  a  little  of  the  machinery  that  is  going  on 
in  your  bosoms,  as  certainly  as  if  I  had  seen  it,  and 
for  this  reason — I  have  acquainted  myself  with  a 
little  of  the  clockwork  of  my  own ;  "  as  face  an- 
swereth  to  face  in  a  glass,  so  the  heart  of  man  to 
man."  If,  therefore,  in  the  course  of  my  remarks, 
I  should  tell  you  of  a  few  things  that  you  think  no 
one  knows  but  yourselves,  be  not  surprised.  If  I 
remind  you  when  a  spindle  is  a  little  awry,  when  a 
cog-wheel  has  a  broken  tooth,  or  when  the  main- 
spring is  out  of  order,  take  it  not  amiss  ;  it  will  not 
be  that  I  have  a  pleasure  in  revealing  an  infirmity, 
but  because  I  wish  your  minutes  and  hours  to  be 
well  regulated,  for  man's  good  and  God's  glory. 

Again,  I  say,  Have  you  wound  up  the  clock  ?  for 
if  you  have  not,  the  sooner  you  do  it  the  better. 

When  a  minister  is  wound  up  to  preach  in  a  strik- 
ing manner  the  everlasting  gospel  of  truth,  his 
words  are  heard  by  hundreds.  When  an  author  is 
properly  wound  up  to  write  a  useful,  an  interesting, 
and  godly  book,  it  is  read  by  thousands  ;  and  these 
hundreds  and  thousands  may  thereby  not  only  be 
benefited  here,  but  hereafter.  I  said  that  the  clock 
went  for  eight  days,  but  you  see  that  when  the 
20* 


234  HAVE   YOU   WOUND   UP   THE   CLOCK? 

human  clock  is  once  wound  up,  it  may  go  through 
all  time — ay,  through  all  eternity  ! 

Come,  let  us  set  to  work,  for  we  have  all  enough 
to  do,  and  no  one  more  than  Ephraim  Holding 
let  our  mercies  be  magnified,  our  neighbours  edified, 
our  sinful  hearts  mortified,  and  God  glorified ! 


PUT  SOME  COALS  ON  THE  FIRE. 

When  old  Father  Winter  hobbles  in  among  us, 
buttoned  in  his  drab  great-coat  up  to  the  chin,  with 
a  red  worsted  comforter  round  his  mouth,  thick- 
soled,  high-topped  shoes  on  his  feet,  and  his  hat 
powdered  with  snow,  whiter  than  that  of  a  miller  ; 
when  he  comes  in  with  his  grey  locks  hanging  in 
icicles  each  side  his  pinched  up  face,  and  takes  a 
chair,  not  with  the  air  of  one  making  a  morning 
call,  but  rather  like  one  who  has  made  up  his  mind 
to  become  our  guest  for  a  season  ;  when  this  occurs, 
there  is  a  general  disposition  to  pass  the  time  com- 
fortably with  the  old  gentleman.  If  it  so  happen 
that  he  brings  with  him  a  hamper  from  the  country, 
a  turkey  and  a  chine,  a  couple  of  ducks  and  chick- 
ens, a  gammon  of  good  bacon,  or  half  a  dozen  pork 


PUT   SOME    COALS   ON   THE   FERE.  235 

pies,  such  things  are  not  without  their  uses ;  these 
domestic  comforts  are  comforts,  and  will  be  acknow- 
ledged as  such  by  every  grateful  spirit :  but,  even 
with  all  these,  we  should  find  the  time  pass  rather 
gloomily  if  we  did  not  very  often  repeat  the  familiar 
phrase,  Put  some  coals  upon  the  fire. 

It  is  almost  a  question  during  a  sharp  frost,  or 
disagreeable  dabbling  thaw,  whether  food  or  fire 
most  administers  to  our  comfort ;  and  if,  as  I  sup- 
pose, we  must  allow  the  former  to  take  precedence 
of  the  latter,  still  fire  is  a  friend  of  whose  company 
we  are  very,  very  fond.  When  I  think  of  the  howl- 
ing winds  and  fogs  of  November,  and  the  biting 
frosts  and  sleet  and  snow  of  December  and  January, 
I  need  not  ask  whether  you  have  well  supplied 
your  own  fires  with  coal ;  I  take  it  for  granted  that 
you  have  been  "  feelingly  persuaded  "  to  put  some 
coals  upon  the  fire  very  frequently ;  but  let  me  ask 
if  you  have  been  equally  anxious,  or,  indeed,  if  you 
have  been  anxious  at  all,  to  supply  the  hearths  of 
your  poorer  neighbours  ? 

Now,  let  a  plain  man  speak  a  plain  truth.  They 
who  are  unmindful  of  the  wants  of  others,  deserve 
not  that  their  own  should  be  supplied.  This  may  ap- 
pear a  hard  saying,  but  it  is  a  just  one,  and  Ephriam 
Holding  will  repeat  it.  They  who  can  allow  a 
half-fed,  half-clad,  shivering  wretch,  to  retire  to  a 
fireless  home  without  assistance  or  sympathy,  when 
they  have  the  means  of  manifesting  both,  are  unde- 
serving of  the  kindly  glow  communicated  by  the 


236  PUT   SOME    COALS   ON   THE   FIRE. 

cheerful  flame.  I  ask  not  if  you  have  given,  this 
winter,  a  waggon-load  of  faggots,  or  a  cart-load  of 
coals  to  the  poor,  but  whether  you  have  been  the 
means  of  placing  a  single  stick  on  the  hearth  of  the 
aged,  the  fatherless,  or  the  widow  ?  If  you  are 
among  those  who  clothe  themselves  warm,  draw  the 
curtains  close,  sit  snugly  by  the  warm  hearth,  and  put 
plenty  of  coals  on  the  fire,  unmindful  of  those  who 
have  no  warm  clothes  to  put  on,  no  curtains  to  draw, 
and  not  a  lump  of  coal  to  kindle,  Ephraim  Hold- 
ing will  plainly  tell  you,  that  though  you  imagine 
yourselves  to  be  grateful,  it  is  a  mockery  to  thank 
God  for  his  mercies,  while  your  hearts  feel  not,  and 
your  hands  relieve  not  the  miseries  of  others.  One 
deed  of  kindness  to  your  fellow-creatures  would  be 
a  less  questionable  proof  of  gratitude  to  God,  than 
the  loudest  thanksgiving  of  a  covetous  heart. 

My  opinion  is,  that  the  keenest  frost  of  winter 
never  pinchf-s  us  sjiarp  enough  till  it  pinches  some- 
thing out  of  our  pockets  for  those  who  are  worse 
fed  and  worse  clothed  than  ourselves.  Now  be  per- 
suaded to  put  some  coals  on  the  fire  of  your  poorer 
neighbour. 

In  urging  you  to  serve  others,  I  urge  you  to 
serve  yourselves  ;  for  who  enjoys  his  dinner  more 
than  he  who  gives  a  portion  to  the  famished  beggar? 
or  who  sleeps  more  sweetly  than  the  man  who  pre- 
vents the  bed  of  another  from  being  seized  by  the 
bailiff?     We  have  all  read,  and  we  all  believe  th*» 


PUT   SOME    COALS   ON   THE   FniE.  237 

words,  "  Blessed  is  he  that  remembereth  the  poor  ; 
the  Lord  shall  deliver  him  in  time  of  trouble." 

You  see  clearly  enough  by  this  time,  that  Ephraim 
Holding  is  not  likely  to  be  content  in  talking  only 
of  fuel,  or  fire,  in  the  common  acceptation  of  the 
word.  It  would  do  him  good  to  think  that  he  had 
influenced  any  one  of  you  to  visit  the  almshouse,  or 
the  cottage  of  the  poor  ;  and  if  he  knew  that  you 
had  caused  to  be  carried  there,  a  hundred  of  coals, 
a  bundle  of  faggots,  or  a  little  dried  turf,  he  would 
thank  you  with  a  grateful  heart ;  but  there  are  other 
ways  than  these  of  putting  coals  upon  the  fire. 

You  have  read  the  words  in  Holy  Scripture,  "  If 
thine  enemy  hunger,  feed  him ;  if  he  thirst,  give 
him  drink  ;  for  in  so  doing  thou  shalt  heap  coals  of 
fire  on  his  head."  If,  then,  by  deeds  of  kindness  we 
are  to  destroy  the  hatred  of  our  enemies,  how  much 
more  are  we  called  upon,  by  the  same  means,  to 
gain  the  love  of  our  friends  ?  Do  you  act  kindly  to 
your  friends  %  Do  you  bear  with  them  ?  Do  you 
put  a  kind  construction  on  their  conduct  %  Do  you 
win  them  by  your  affection  ?  or,  are  you  churlish, 
swift  to  take  offence,  and  backward  to  forgive  their 
errors  1  If  you  wish  them  to  respect  and  love  you, 
you  must  respect  and  love  them.  You  must  fan  the 
flame  of  their  affection  ;  you  must  put  some  coals 
upon  the  fire. 

It  may  be  that  you  have  hitherto  thought  there  is 
but  one  way  of  putting  coals  on  the  fire,  but  Ephraim 
Holding   could    tell  you  of  a  thousand.      Every 


238  PUT    SOME    COALS   ON   THE   FIRE. 

human  being,  who  fosters  a  holy  desire,  and  encour 
ages  a  warmhearted  intention  to  do  good  in  his  own 
or  another's  heart,  in  the  best  sense  of  the  expression 
is  putting  coals  upon  the  fire. 

Often  have  I  sat  in  the  house  of  God,  when  a 
faithful  minister  has  entered  on  his  sacred  duties,  in 
such  a  spirit  of  heartfelt  devotion,  and  animated  zeal, 
that  it  would  have  been  impossible  to  doubt  that  he 
had  been  putting  coals  on  the  fire  before  he  came. 
The  word  of  God  had  been  "  read,  marked,  learned,, 
and  inwardly  digested;"  the  throne  of  grace  had 
been  humbly  sought ;  the  gift  of  utterance,  and  the 
sanctifying  influence  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  had  been 
fervently  supplicated  and  received.  It  has  done  me 
good  to  see  such  a  servant  of  God,  such  a  messen- 
ger of  mercy  to  fallen  men,  come  forth  with  the 
strength  of  a  giant  refreshed  with  wine,  in  his  Mas- 
ter's cause.  How  faithfully  has  he  warned  sinners  \ 
how  fervently  has  he  glorified  the  Savoiur  !  Oh,  it 
is  an  excellent  thing  to  put  coals  upon  the  fire. 

We  cannot  all  be  ministers,  and  you,  like  Ephraim 
Holding,  may  not  have  assigned  you  so  high,  so 
honourable,  and  so  holy  a  calling ;  but  still  Ave  may 
all  speak  a  word  in  season  to  those  around  us.  We 
may  mildly  reprove  the  thoughtless,  we  may  cor- 
dially encourage  our  fellow  pilgrims  on  their  way 
to  the  golden  gates  of  the  heavenly  city. 

No  doubt  you  have  many  times  attended  the  pub- 
lic meetings  of  pious  and  benevolent  Societies. 
Sometimes,  on  these  occasions,  the  resolutions  are 


PUT   SOME   COALS   ON   THE   FIRE.  239 

passed,  and  the  business  moves  on,  slowly,  as  though 
the  affairs  of  the  assembly  were  being  dragged 
along  in  a  broad-wheeled  waggon,  or  a  funeral 
hearse.  Suddenly,  some  speaker,  with  a  heart  of 
zeal,  and  a  tongue  of  eloquence,  mounts  the  plat- 
form ;  his  arguments,  like  a  tide  or  torrent,  bear 
down  all  opposition  ;  his  words  begin  to  warm  the 
assembly  like  a  cordial ;  eyes  sparkle,  pulses  play, 
bosoms  beat ,  his  animating  influence  spreads  like  a 
flame,  and  a  spirit  of  Christian  love  and  holy  joy 
animates  the  rejoicing  throng.  The  remainder  of 
the  resolutions  are  passed  with  animation,  and  are 
borne  along  as  if  carried  in  a  triumphal  car.  This  is 
what  I  call  putting  coals  upon  the  fire. 

If  you  and  I  cannot  speak  in  public,  we  can  sure- 
ly act  in  private  ;  and  the  poorest  man  ought  not  to 
withhold  his  penny  in  a  good  cause,  merely  because 
he  cannot  give  a  pound. 

You  see  that  Ephraim  Holding  is  anxious  that 
you  should  be  doing  something.  A  waggon-load  of 
good  wishes  will  neither  relieve  the  sick,  feed  the 
hungry,  clothe  the  naked,  nor  draw  back  the  wan- 
derer to  the  paths  of  peace.  It  is  better  to  give  a 
cup  of  cold  water  to  one  thirsty  traveller,  than 
merely  to  wish  for  the  welfare  of  the  woild. 

We  all  know,  too  well,  what  it  is,  in  our  resent- 
ments, to  put  coals  upon  the  fire.  However  fierce 
may  be  the  flame,  we  are  prone  to  add  to  its  fury. 
We  cherish  the  spark,  we  fan  the  flame,  and  feed 
the  conflagration.     We  forget  that  "  a  soft  answer 


240  PUT   SOME    COALS   ON   THE   FIRE. 

turneth  away  wrath,"  while  we  practically  remem- 
ber that  "  grievous  words  stir  np  anger."  This  is  to 
our  reproach. 

Ephraim  Holding  wants  not  to  weary  you  with 
counsel ;  but,  if  he  knew  how,  he  would  make  your 
hearts  burn  within  you  with  desire  to  do  good* 
your  thoughts,  words,  and  deeds,  should  breathe 
the  very  spirit  of  kindness  and  love.  Look  around 
you  on  the  earth ;  what  proofs  of  the  goodness  of 
God  do  we  find !  Every  herb,  fruit,  and  flower 
proclaims  it.  Look  at  the  heavens,  either  whea 
illumined  by  the  sun,  or  lit  up  with  stars. 

If  thus  the  sky  above  our  head, 

Which  God  beneath  his  feet  has  spread,    . 

With  floods  of  living  light  excels, 

What  must  the  heaven  be  where  He  dwells  ! 

The  very  thought  should  influence  us  to  put  coals 
on  the  fire  of  our  slumbering  zeal.  God's  love  for 
us  should  increase  our  love  for  Him  continually, 
and  for  one  another.  The  wonders  of  creation 
should  lead  us  to  the  greater  wonders  of  redemp- 
tion ;  and  the  blessings  we  participate  in  time,  in- 
crease our  desires  after  those  of  eternity. 


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